


Scottie

by TooSel



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Engagement, Growing Up, Insecurity, Lack of Communication, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Past Character Death, Rebecca Fusion, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooSel/pseuds/TooSel
Summary: Last night he dreamed he went to Manderley again...Wasting his days as a paid companion, a grieving and insecure Mike Ross struggles to find his way in a world he seems to have no place in. Until he meets Harvey Specter, who changes everything irrevocably. But Harvey has a past of his own, and life at his prestigious law firm in London isn't as perfect as he thought. There are secrets lurking in the shadows at Manderley that he can't seem to get behind, and on top of that Harvey is still haunted by the sudden death of his wife...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely ao3 folks! I'm back and super excited about it. This fic is something I've wanted to write for months and I'm so thrilled that it's finally done! The plot is heavily based on the novel "Rebecca" by Daphne du Maurier, with some changes to accommodate the modern Suits!verse, and some lines are lifted straight from the source material (particularly the opening line and parts of the following sequence). However, there's no need to be familiar with it to read this fic - it might even be more fun to follow if you don't know the story!

Last night he dreamed he went to Manderley again.

It seemed to him he stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while he couldn’t enter because the way was barred.

Then, he suddenly managed to pass through it like a spirit. The drive wound away in front of him, twisting and turning as it always had, but as he went on he realized that something had changed; it was narrow and unkept, not like they had known it. It confused him at first, and it was only when he bent his head to avoid the swinging branch of a tree that he realized what had happened. Nature had come into her own again and, little by little, encroached upon the drive.

Scattered here and there among this jungle growth he recognized shrubs that had been landmarks in their time, things of culture and grace, hydrangeas whose blue heads had been famous. No one had taken care of them, and they’d gone native now, rearing to monster height without a bloom, black and ugly as the nameless parasites that grew beside them.

On and on wound the thread that once had been the drive, disappearing sometimes but always turning up again, beneath a fallen tree or struggling on the other side of a muddied ditch created by the winter rains. He hadn’t remembered the way so long. The miles must have multiplied as the trees had done, and this path led somewhere else, to some choked wilderness, and not to the building at all.

He came upon it suddenly; the approach masked by the unnatural growth of a vast shrub that spread in all directions, and he stood, his heart thumping in his chest, the strange prick of tears behind his eyes.

There was Manderley, their Manderley, regal and secretive as it had always been, towering above him silently. Time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls, nor the site itself.

Moonlight can play odd tricks on the mind, even on that of a dreamer. As he stood there, hushed and still, he could swear that the house was not an empty shell but lived and breathed as it had before. Light came from the windows, the curtains blew softly in the night air, and there, in the office on the second floor, the door would stand half open as they had left it.

But then a cloud came before the moon, and the light disappeared, and the illusion went with it. The windows turned dark again, and all he saw was a desolate shell, soulless at last, unhaunted, with no whisper of the past inside.

The house was a tomb now, their fear and suffering buried in the ruins of it. There would be no resurrection. There couldn’t be, for the building wasn’t there anymore, and neither was he. In reality he would wake in another country before long. He would turn and sigh, and open his eyes, bewildered by the glittering sun, the bright blue sky so different from the soft moonlight of his dream. The day would lie before them both, long no doubt, and so very different than it had been at Manderley.

They can never go back, that much is certain.

They have come through the storm, though not unscathed. They have their moments of depression; but there are other moments too, when time loses its meaning and, catching Harvey’s smile, he knows that they are together, united, no more unspoken words and hidden truths between them.

They have no secrets from one another anymore. All things are shared, the past and the future, their very own traditions in this new life that they have built together. There are homecooked dinners, and long nights at the office, and Sunday mornings spent in bed because neither of them can be bothered to get up. There’s Star Trek marathons and pasta every Thursday. The special scotch Harvey opens when there’s a reason to celebrate. A ritual to read to each other when they’re in need of comfort.

It’s a different life from Manderley. It’s a different life than Mike has ever known.

Even before Harvey, before everything that happened, he never had the kind of intimacy he can no longer imagine living without now.

There was only the memory of the family he’d lost, and then Mrs. Van Hopper, and the endless stream of strangers with big names she collected on her travels with all the confidence Mike lacked back then.

He is so different now from the person who drove to Manderley for the first time, hopeful and eager, held back by his lack of experience and the rather desperate desire to please. He can see himself now, how young and inexpert he looked. And how he felt it, too.

He remembers his lack of poise at Manderley, the distinct sensation of being the talk of the office at any given moment. He remembers what a fool he made of himself that day when he first met Harvey. He remembers the plate of starters Mrs. Van Hopper had ordered. It was dry, unappetizing, lacking all the things he really wanted, but he didn’t have the courage to refuse it. They ate in silence, as they usually did when it was just the two of them, and Mike remembers how he hated that silence, how he wished he had someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t her.

He remembers how Mrs. Van Hopper put her fork down when her eyes caught the new arrival; how the newcomer, unaware of her rude interest, sat down at the table next to them, immersing himself in the menu. Mrs. Van Hopper leaned towards Mike, her eyes bright with excitement, her voice a touch too loud to be discreet.

“It's Harvey Specter,” she said, “the man who owns Manderley. You've heard of it, of course. He looks sick, doesn't he? They say he can't get over his wife's death...”

**Monte Carlo, Monaco. One year earlier**

Ham and tongue.

Of course. Again.

Mike flashes the waitress a small smile as she takes his menu, not bothering to ask if he would like something else. They learned he doesn’t have a voice the very day they checked into this hotel, as they do everywhere they go. He doesn’t know why Monte Carlo should be different.

He guesses he’ll have ham and tongue then.

He’s quite sick of it, to be honest.

It looks just as unappetizing as he feared when the plate arrives, and he takes the smallest piece he can find, leaving it to Mrs. Van Hopper to indulge in the rest to her heart’s desire.

She moans obscenely when she takes the first bite, and Mike glances at the surrounding tables, most of them thankfully unoccupied, before he drops his eyes again.

“This is delicious. Don’t you just love it? I could eat nothing else for the rest of my life.”

“It’s good,” Mike agrees.

They eat in silence, though Mike mostly chews on the same piece of meat until he can bring himself to swallow it. He notices the person taking one of the tables near them, but doesn’t look up, at least not until Mrs. Van Hopper shifts in her seat, whoever it is clearly interesting enough to distract her from her food.

“It's Harvey Specter,” she says, leaning towards him, “the man who owns Manderley. You've heard of it, of course. He looks sick, doesn't he? They say he can't get over his wife's death.”

Mike has heard about Manderley, the prestigious law firm just outside of London. He has heard of Harvey Specter, one half of the dazzling duo that took over the firm just three years after starting there and brought it to international fame.

He has heard of him. He just didn’t realize he was so handsome.

Even with the pale skin and the shadows beneath his eyes – and Mike has to give it to her, he does look somewhat unwell – there’s an air of grace surrounding him, the confidence and sobriety he carries himself with commanding nothing less than the entire room’s attention.

He looks tired, Mike thinks, and more troubled than sick.

“Go to him,” Mrs. Van Hopper whispers. Ripped from his thoughts, Mike blinks at her.

“What?”

“Go on, talk to him! Ask him over to have lunch with us!”

“I don’t…”

Mike hates this part. He hates playing errand boy, never mind that it _is_ part of his job description, but she always uses him to charm whoever she has an eye on for god knows what reason – it’s not like he’s very good at charming people, or even just talking to them.

The objection dies on his lips as he looks at Mrs. Van Hopper. The man won’t appreciate the interruption, he’s sure of that. He glances at him scanning the menu, his lips curled in displeasure, the remnants of a long night or two clear on his face. The last thing he probably wants is some scrawny kid approaching his table and disturbing his well-deserved lunch break.

He looks back at Mrs. Van Hopper and opens his mouth, then closes it again and pushes his chair back with an inaudible sigh.

There’s nothing for it. Time to go and bother the attractive man he is most likely going to run into every day for the remainder of this trip.

Trying his best to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach, he musters all his courage and walks over, stopping just in front of his table. He clears his throat when he doesn’t look up, which catches his attention.

“Uh. Hi.”

Smooth.

“Hello.” Mr. Specter lifts an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“That depends. I was just over there having lunch with my… travel companion, and we couldn’t help but notice you coming in. You’re Harvey Specter, right?”

“I am indeed.” He takes him in, his eyes briefly dropping down his body before returning to his face. To his surprise, there’s no hostility in the look he gives him. Instead he leans in, tilting his head as he inquires, “And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“I’m Mike. Mike Ross.”

Mr. Specter hums, regarding him intently. “Nice to meet you, Mike Ross.”

His eyes move to his chest.

“And while I appreciate the interruption, you’ve got some nerve coming over here like this.”

“I’m- sorry, what?”

“Your tie,” Mr. Specter specifies with a nod. “It’s atrocious.”

Mike opens his mouth, looking down as he sputters, “Hey, what’s wrong with this tie?”

He’s not particularly fond of it, or any ties for that matter, but Mrs. Van Hopper insists that he ‘dresses nicely’ when they’re out to eat.

Well, looks like he didn’t quite accomplish that.

“What isn’t wrong with it? It’s skinny, the color doesn’t suit you, and the fabric hurts me just looking at it.” He raises a brow. “You know where you should start with dressing yourself? Your eyes. They are your best asset. You wanna dress to accentuate them, draw attention to them. Just a touch of petrol blue. Azure, perhaps.”

Mike opens his mouth to respond, trying to figure out if he just gave him a compliment when he helps clear the question up by adding, “It would go a long way. You have good material to work with, especially with a face like that.”

Mike blinks. “I-“

So this is unexpected.

Sure, he thought Mr. Specter would be nice about dismissing him, but he doesn’t send him away at all, instead displaying something that looks like genuine interest.

How peculiar.

“I don’t- you think? You’re flattering me.”

It’s barely a coherent sentence, but Mr. Specter just smiles and asks, “Is it working?”

“Depends on what you’re trying to achieve.”

“Well, you’re the one who came over here, so why don’t you tell me what _you_ were trying to achieve?”

“I was gonna ask you to have lunch with us. But now I’m thinking I should propose a fashion consultancy instead.”

“One rather obvious suggestion and you’re ready to put your wardrobe into my hands? You must have a lot of faith in my abilities.”

“No, that’s- I mean, I do, but it’s also because you… well, you look good. The way you dress. It’s nice.”

He wishes not for the first time that he was smoother, that he didn’t stumble over his words so damn much, but the look Mr. Specter is giving him is too intriguing to let that stop him.

“Are you sure you’re working in the right field?” he asks with a tilt of his head, determined not to let show how flustered he is. He can keep up with the conversation, the banter that comes to Mr. Specter so easily. He can prove that he’s worthy of his time. “I mean, your talents are wasted in a courtroom. Unless you go up to the judges and tell them they should wear a different robe to match their eyes.”

Mr. Specter chuckles, a surprisingly rich and satisfying sound, and his voice is just a tad too low when he says, “I’m quite talented in a lot of areas, believe me.”

Mike’s mouth is rather dry all of a sudden. “I- okay. That’s not hard to believe.”

Mr. Specter’s smirk grows into a grin, and Mike drops his eyes, hoping the flush on his cheeks will go unnoticed.

“I didn’t even want to wear this, but she made me,” he changes the topic. “I couldn’t have known I was going to run into someone like you today, or I would have gone with another outfit.”

“Well, let this be a lesson then. You should always dress for the life you want, not the one you have. How else are you ever going to show people that you deserve it? You never know what’s going to happen, and you want to avoid leaving a bad first impression.”

Mike swallows. “Did I?”

Mr. Specter just smiles. “Don’t worry. You’re doing fine.”

He hesitantly returns the smile, shifting his weight. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re rather-“

“Mike.”

He tenses at the sound of her voice when he realizes that he forgot about Mrs. Van Hopper entirely.

“I see you two are getting along well. Why don’t you introduce us?”

Her sweet tone does nothing to mask the impatience behind the words. Mike represses a sigh. “Mrs. Van Hopper, Harvey Specter. Mr. Specter, Mrs. Van Hopper.”

“Pleasure,” Mr. Specter says, rising from his seat to shake her hand.

“Oh, it’s all mine, believe me. I couldn’t help but notice you as soon as you came in, you know. You’re quite the celebrity among those who pay attention to the high society, such as myself. I actually sent my companion over to invite you to join us for lunch.”

Mike purses his lips, stubbornly refusing to meet her no doubt annoyed gaze. “I did invite him. Mr. Specter was just telling me-“

“Harvey, please,” he interrupts.

Mike halts, swallowing, then continues, his voice just slightly uneven, “Harvey was just telling me a little about ties.”

It feels like a weak excuse, a lie even, and with Mrs. Van Hopper’s arrival feeling like a cold shower, his cheeks heat up with embarrassment when he thinks about all the things he just wanted to say to a damn stranger.

He catches Harvey’s eyes, something flashing in them that he’s not sure how to interpret, but he breaks the contact before he can figure it out.

“Well, would you be so kind as to join us then?” Mrs. Van Hoper asks.

Harvey’s gaze shifts to Mike before he says, “It would be my pleasure.”

Catching the look, she tells him, “I’m sorry if he kept you from ordering your lunch. Please, help yourself to our plate while you wait for yours.”

“You’re most generous. He did nothing of the sort, though,” Harvey says as he joins their table, but Mike can tell from the tone of his voice that the compliment is hollow, his words empty, not at all like they were when it was just the two of them.

“Ham and tongue,” he observes. The careful neutrality makes Mike think that he isn’t happy about the selection.

“My favorite,” Mrs. Van Hopper agrees cheerfully. “Mike hasn’t been eating well, poor boy. But that just leaves more for us, doesn’t it?”

Harvey’s eyes are trained on Mike. “I’m not a fan of tongue. In my experience, people are often chatty enough without an additional one.” He turns to look at her. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The remark goes straight over her head, but not Mike’s. He watches Harvey curiously, the corner of his mouth lifting when he meets his eyes.

There is that look again, the small smile on his lips, the understanding passing between them at Mrs. Van Hopper’s behavior. It was compassion then, the expression Mike couldn’t quite pinpoint before.

Or maybe it’s just pity.

That must be it. He probably feels sorry for him, has done so all along and that’s why he humored him with the flirty remarks. Mrs. Van Hopper is right. Mike is just a kid, after all, a good decade younger than him and inferior in every way. It’s not like someone of Harvey’s age and status would actually be interested in him.

How stupid of him to assume otherwise.

His smile fades, and he looks down at his empty plate before Harvey can see it.

“What are you doing in Monte Carlo?”

Glancing back up, Mike realizes that the question is directed at him, but before he can respond Mrs. Van Hopper has already started her tale of inheriting money from a recently deceased sister, wanting to make good use of it while she still can, seeing the world, yada yada yada.

Having heard it more times than he cares to keep track of, Mike is quite sick of it.

It seems that Harvey isn’t all that into it either. He just makes a noncommittal sound when she finishes, then turns to him and asks, “Have you been here before?”

“Oh, once, in my early twenties,” Mrs. Van Hopper chimes in. “I was a young fool then. My father had brought me along on one of his business trips – he was very successful, traveled a lot, you must know, and on my first night here I met a dazzling gentleman who promised to show me the world if I ran away with him. I never did, but the world I still wanted to see.”

“Fascinating,” Harvey says in a way that nearly makes Mike choke on his water.

“What about you? Is this your first time in Monte Carlo?”

“The second. I was here once before.” Harvey’s jaw clenches. “It was a while ago.” He shakes his head, then asks Mike, his voice gentler, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Again Mrs. Van Hopper replies before Mike even gets a chance to. It’s frustrating, though it’s probably for the best. This way he at least can’t make a fool of himself.

Harvey listens politely, though without much interest, and when she’s done talking he merely hums in acknowledgement. His eyes keep wandering to Mike, who presses his lips together and stays quiet.

“What about you?” he asks when he doesn’t offer any information himself.

Mike clears his throat. “I like it. It’s a nice place.”

When he doesn’t say more, Harvey lifts an eyebrow and inquires, “Have you swallowed your tongue?”

Mike glances at him, the genuine interest in his eyes, the piercing look he gives him as if wanting to see straight through him.

“A tongue, sadly,” he lets slip before he can hold himself back.

Mrs. Van Hopper sends him a withering glare, and he drops his eyes after another look at Harvey. It’s enough to catch his amused smile.

He just hopes he’s laughing with him, not at him.

“He was quite the chatterbox when I first met him. Poor thing is traumatized, I suppose. Hanging on to the past like no one’s business.”

Mike’s jaw clenches. “It’s been five months,” he says. “I think I’m allowed to grieve.”

“Yes, yes, of course, dear.”

God, Mike can’t stand her sometimes. Just because she got over her sister’s death virtually the day it happened doesn’t mean that he can do the same, or even wants to. What’s so bad about remembering the ones he lost? He knows that she will never understand that though, and he wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain it, so he just stays silent and tries not to be too put out.

Harvey glances between them, his eyes narrowed. “How _did_ you meet?” he asks, looking at Mike, but again it’s Mrs. Van Hopper who responds.

This time Harvey is not having it, though.

“I was talking to Mike.”

Her mouth shuts with a cluck. Taking advantage of her flustered silence, Mike clears his throat and explains, “My grandmother and her sister were in the same assisted living facility. They passed within a month of each other, and as we both found ourselves without any obligations on our hands, Mrs. Van Hopper offered to employ me as a paid companion to her travels. I didn’t have anything else on, and it’s a good way to get around a little, so I agreed.”

Though he’d be lying if he said he was enjoying it.

“Poor boy had never even left the country before,” Mrs. Van Hopper chimes in again, having recovered from Harvey’s blow. “So sad, his parents died when he was only ten…”

Mike slumps in his chair as she lays out his tragedy like the latest front-page splash. He doesn’t mind people knowing about this part of his life, it’s part of _him_, but he never consented to having it exploited for a stranger’s sympathy.

“Enough about him, though,” she finally waves him off, and Mike thanks whoever is listening for the end of that particular hell. “Let’s talk about you.”

Harvey doesn’t look too excited about that prospect, but oblivious as ever Mrs. Van Hopper continues, “Are you in town for business? I imagine you have quite the international reputation. Or are you here on vacation?”

“I’m not on vacation,” Harvey replies curtly.

“A case then? How exciting. I’m sure you aren’t just here for work, though. What do you plan on doing in the city?”

“I’m not certain yet,” Harvey responds, which Mike thinks is a smart move on his part. “I came here on rather short notice.”

It’s obvious to anyone with eyes or the slightest ability to read a room that the line of questioning is not welcome. Mike watches with a knot in his stomach as his face grows darker and his lips thinner when he presses them together, his hand on the table curling into a fist.

Mrs. Van Hopper, of course, doesn’t realize any of it, or simply doesn’t care.

“Well, there’s plenty to do here. Which you’ll know, having been here before. I’m sure a break from all the hard work you do is going to be most enjoyable. How’s business these days? You’re holding up admirably, I must say. That case you won last year, it was quite impressive. The one with the bankruptcy you managed to turn around. Sutherland Inc., I believe?”

“Sutherland LLC,” Mike corrects quietly. “They’re a limited liability company. Both LLCs and corporations file forms with the state and protect their owners from liability for business obligations, but they are different in the way they are owned, managed and taxed, and they have different recordkeeping and reporting requirements.”

He remembers reading an article about that case, the topic catching his eye despite his efforts to avoid the legal world and reminders of the fact that he missed his shot at being part of it.

It was a good article. It was an interesting case. It was the first time he heard of Harvey Specter, who is now sitting across from him with a raised brow and his eyes trained on him. Mike distantly wonders how many more times he is going to blush in his presence and decides that he’d rather not know.

“Mike is right,” he says. “The difference between the two was actually crucial in this case, as the recordkeeping and reporting requirements were what saved my client in the end. It was close, but we managed to turn things around.”

Mrs. Van Hopper nods, and Mike is almost positive that she isn’t listening to a word they’re saying. She likely doesn’t even care about the case, only remembers reading about it in the paper, picking up Harvey’s name and filing it away as _relevant_ and _important_.

“All those legal terms,” she says, chuckling. “I don’t know how you keep up.”

_By having a genuine interest in the matter and not just the people practicing it that you collect for your little stories_ is on the tip of Mike’s tongue. When he catches Harvey’s gaze, it looks like he’s thinking along the same lines.

He clears his throat, checking his phone for the time before putting it into his pocket.

“Well. This has been… quite interesting,” Harvey says, and when his eyes catch on Mike’s he thinks that he hears something like sincerity in his voice, “but I’m afraid I must be on my way.”

“Already? But you haven’t eaten!”

Mike is hit with the same disappointment he can hear in her voice, an inexplicable urge to do something to get him to stay just a little longer. But he wouldn’t know what anyway, and if he wants to go, he should. He’s indulged Mike out of pity enough, or whatever it was that made him stay this long.

“No, but I have an important call scheduled in twenty minutes that I need to prepare for. There’s no time for a lengthy lunch.”

“Oh, of course, of course. Always working, aren’t you? Quite extraordinary, that kind of dedication in today’s day and age. This new generation, they don’t know how to work anymore.”

Mike feels the words like a physical slap. She might as well have said his name. He ducks his head in embarrassment, refusing to look Harvey in the eye even as he feels his gaze on him.

“’I’ll have to disagree,” he says as he rises from his chair. “Some of my most efficient and talented employees at Manderley are in their twenties. Without them, the firm would collapse.”

It’s over in a second, but Mike thinks he catches Harvey winking at him before he straightens.

“Mrs. Van Hopper. Mike. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

His eyes are on Mike’s face the entire time, lingering just enough for his heart rate to speed up before he turns and strides out of the room, not waiting for a response.

“Well, that was quite rude,” Mrs. Van Hopper states.

Mike just so holds back a laugh.

“It was,” he agrees, and if she doesn’t realize he’s talking about her, it’s her own damn problem.

His amusement fades as the silence between them returns and Mrs. Van Hopper devotes herself to her plate again. The conversation with Harvey was a pleasant disruption of their usual routine, and Mike is selfishly sorry that they had to part ways so soon, even though it’s probably best for Harvey to get back to his own business instead of that of an old, nosy woman and a kid who can’t form a sentence without messing it up to save his life.

Well, there’s nothing for it. Mike settles in for another boring afternoon of golf or bridge or whatever activity Mrs. Van Hopper deems fitting for the day, and he almost manages to put all thoughts of the handsome stranger out of his mind.

That is until he returns to his room to freshen up before dinner, only to be interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. When he opens up, he finds the young man from the desk before him.

“A note for you, sir,” he says, handing him a card.

“Thanks,” Mike gives back, perplexed. When Mrs. Van Hopper wants something, she usually just knocks herself.

He closes the door and opens the card, his heart skipping a beat when he finds a strange handwriting rather than hers.

_Forgive me for my hasty exit earlier. It was quite rude._

There’s no signature, but Mike doesn’t need one.

He drops on the bed, rereading the card a few times.

It doesn’t really say much at all. It’s weird that Harvey went through the trouble of writing it for just that. What is he supposed to say in response? Is he even supposed to say anything? Does Harvey want him to? He’s not sure what the purpose of the card is and so doesn’t know what to reply, or even how to – he would feel stupid sending a card as well, and knocking on his door is hardly an option, even if he knew what room he’s in.

He looks at the card again, biting his lip before he puts it on his nightstand and decides to do nothing.

*

Mike’s heart pounds in excitement when he opens his door to find the man from the desk before him again. He half expects him to deliver another card, the foolish hope creeping in before he can do anything to stop it, and so he deflates when the man doesn’t hand him anything, instead informing him that Mrs. Van Hopper is not feeling well and intends to spend the day in bed.

Of course there’s no second card. Harvey most likely forgot about him already. It would do him well to put him out of his mind instead of hanging after stupid daydreams that will never happen.

Still, this is good news. It means that Mike is left with his first day off since they left the city. A whole day to himself almost seems too good to be true, and he has no idea what to do with the time at his hands, but he figures that he might as well figure it out over a nice, early lunch.

The prospect of eating by himself, which means he’ll actually get to order something he wants, puts him in such a good mood that he nearly skips into the restaurant, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees who else is there.

Of course.

He seriously considers turning on the spot and walking back out when Harvey raises his head and looks straight at him.

“Mike,” he says, the corner of his lips lifting. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Uh, hi,” Mike says, and when the greeting comes out as more of a croak he clears his throat and adds, “I mean, likewise.”

“Are you here to have lunch?”

“Yeah, I was going to. I’m… Mrs. Van Hopper is not feeling well, so it’s just me today.”

“How unfortunate.” Harvey’s eyes shine with amusement. “In that case, care to join me?”

“That’s- are you sure? I can just sit down somewhere and pretend I’m not here, that’s totally fine.”

“Nonsense. Why would you do that?”

Mike swallows. “Because… you didn’t come here to have lunch with me? I just don’t wanna intrude.”

“You’re not intruding on anything. And just because I had other plans doesn’t mean I can’t change them if something better comes up.”

“I… okay,” Mike says weakly, pulling out the chair Harvey is signing towards. “I guess I can eat here.”

Harvey smiles, and he licks his lips and focuses on the menu before he can flush yet again. However, his hands are a little more unsteady than he anticipated, causing him to drop the card when he reaches for it.

“Are you nervous?” Harvey asks, amused.

“A little,” Mike admits, and when he chuckles, the rich sound goes straight through him.

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be worried about.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he murmurs, but takes a deep breath regardlessly, determined to at least try to be more collected.

He scans the menu despite knowing it by heart, uncomfortably aware of every second that passes until he has finally made his decision and puts the card back, folding his hands together as he waits for someone to take his order.

His eyes fall to the cup of coffee in front of Harvey, almost untouched.

“Are you gonna eat something?”

“I wasn’t going to, but I guess I could have something now that I’ve got company.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to get anything on my account,” he hurries, but Harvey already waves the waitress over and tells her, “The lemon chicken for me, and a bottle of your best white wine to share. The gentleman can have whatever he wants.”

Mike’s cheeks heat up. He is by no means a gentleman, his shortcomings glaringly obvious in the company of someone as poised and charming as Harvey, and he only feels worse when he stumbles over his order of white asparagus and new potatoes.

“No ham and tongue today?” Harvey asks, chuckling when Mike groans. “I get it. Why anyone would eat that voluntarily is beyond me. But each to their own, I suppose.”

“And she has it almost every single day, too,” Mike mutters darkly.

“Repulsive,” Harvey agrees.

The waitress brings them their wine and some fresh bread. Mike eyes it hungrily, the scent making his stomach growl. Mrs. Van Hopper always sends the bread back, and he waits for Harvey to do the same, but when he shows no signs of doing so, he snatches two pieces from the basket and takes a hungry bite.

It’s delicious. Sighing quietly, he devours the warm pieces in no time and then reaches for another one, only realizing that Harvey is watching him when he remarks, the amusement clear in his voice, “Is Mrs. Van Hopper starving you?”

When Mike stops in his movements, he chuckles and waves his hand. “Please, go ahead. We don’t want it to go to waste, and you look like you can use it.”

Mike tries not to shrink under his gaze, the strange intensity in it leaving his heart pounding as he munches on his baguette.

“Don’t you want some?” he asks.

Harvey shakes his head with a small smile, but he still forces himself to slow down, resisting the urge to take another piece just in case he changes his mind. And because he doesn’t need him to think that he’s a starved teenager.

He keeps glancing at Harvey, who alternates between reading and typing something on his phone, the lines on his forehead betraying his displeasure. Even so he looks somewhat sublime, exuding an air of confidence and superiority that is equally intriguing and disheartening.

Mike is acutely aware of his slumped shoulders, the bad posture he carries himself with, and he swallows and sits up straighter, unable to stop watching him.

Harvey sighs when the waitress returns with his plate, finally looking up.

“I’m sorry,” he says, putting his phone into his pocket. “It seems the firm can barely survive a few days without me. I’m all yours now.”

That doesn’t exactly make things easier. Mike swallows and attempts a smile. The waitress puts his plate in front of him, and he thanks her and squares his shoulders as he reaches for his cutlery, subtly trying to match his posture to Harvey’s.

A quiet sigh escapes him when he takes the first bite.

“You like it?”

“I do. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Mike glances up, watching the first bite disappear into his mouth. His eyes linger on his lips a second too long before he asks, “What about you?”

“It’s fine. Not bad, but I’ve had better.”

“Right.”

Harvey has probably had the most amazing food all over the world in the best company imaginable, putting this meal to shame. Of course it doesn’t compare. Mike couldn’t hope to, either.

Still, they are here now, and there’s no need to let this turn into another one in a long list of uncomfortable lunches. Mike came here fully intending to enjoy his free day, so he is damn well going to try. And just because it might not be as exciting for Harvey as it is for Mike doesn’t mean that he can’t make it as pleasant for himself as possible.

“Are you enjoying Monte Carlo?” he asks into the silence, hating how stiff the question sounds from his mouth, but Harvey just shrugs.

“It’s alright. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and I didn’t really come here to do sightseeing. I imagine it’s a lot more exciting for you.”

Mike doesn’t know what to do with that. Because he’s so inexperienced? Because he doesn’t know what’s good, young and naïve as he is?

It doesn’t matter how he meant it, he’s right either way. Mike has no experiences to look back on and no perspective ahead. He can’t keep up with Harvey, not intellectually and certainly not in any other area. He’s almost ridiculously insufficient. Harvey is going to start regretting inviting him for lunch any second now, if he doesn’t already.

He pushes the asparagus around on his plate, the lump in his throat preventing him from eating more.

“I’ve never been abroad before,” he says after a small pause, mostly just to say something.

“I know,” Harvey tells him. “Mrs. Van Hopper mentioned it.”

“Right.”

“How has it been, seeing more of the world?”

“Well, I haven’t really seen all that much. It’s only been three months since we left New York. We went to Italy, and France, and then we came here. Mostly it’s just been sitting around at these semi-fancy hotels, doing… old people stuff.”

He sucks in his lip, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t complain. I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Harvey huffs. “You’re what, twenty-five? Of course you don’t want to spend your days holed up inside with the elderly.”

“I’m twenty-four,” Mike corrects reluctantly.

“Even worse.”

As if he didn’t already know.

Harvey gives him a long look. “You hate it,” he states into the quiet.

“What?”

“You hate your job. You hate traveling with this woman. I dare say you even hate her. Why do you do it?”

Mike looks down, wringing his hands together as he shrugs.

“It’s good money. I get to see the world. And honestly, I wasn’t lying when I said that I had nothing else on. This was the best I could do, so I did it. And I guess I’ll keep doing it until something better turns up.”

Harvey is silent for so long as he looks at him that Mike almost wants to ask if he’s alright before he turns away suddenly.

“I’m not buying it,” he declares, cutting his chicken.

“Buying what?”

“That this is the best you could do. Not for a second, kid.”

“I- thank you, I guess?” Mike lifts his shoulders. “I mean yeah, it’s not that I couldn’t do anything else. But I can’t do the one thing I really wanted to do, so it might as well be this, I suppose.”

At least until he’s figured out a new plan for his future. If he ever does.

“What is it you wanted?”

Mike cracks a smile. “Funnily enough, I actually wanted to be a lawyer.”

Harvey raises his eyebrows. “Really. I’m not surprised.” Tilting his head, he asks, “Why aren’t you? Something tells me it’s not a lack of qualification.”

Mike wishes he would stop watching him so closely, so he could at least pretend that he doesn’t see him blushing like a total idiot.

Why the hell does he think so highly of him? Mike has done nothing to deserve it. He doesn’t even know about his memory, and yet here he is, displaying more faith in his abilities than Mrs. Van Hopper has expressed in all the months he has known her.

“What makes you say that?”

“What? That I don’t think you’re stupid?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen you, Mike. I’m talking to you. There’s clearly more to you than just a pretty face.” He smirks when Mike fidgets with his napkin, then asks, “Why, are you trying to convince me of the opposite?”

Obviously not. He’s just trying to understand where Harvey is coming from, what he sees in him that makes him want to sit through a lunch of stammering and avoided eye contact. Because whatever it is, he finds himself desperate to prove to him that he’s right, that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Mike bites his lip, considering before he makes a decision.

It may be pretentious of him to brag, but the desire to impress Harvey is unrelenting, impossible not to give in to.

“What’s the last book you read?”

“To Kill a Mockingbird,” Harvey says. “Why?”

“When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow,” Mike begins to recite. “When it healed, and Jem’s fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn’t have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt. When enough years had gone by to enable us to look back on them, we sometimes discussed the events leading to his accident. I maintain that the Ewells started it all, but Jem, who was four years my senior, said it started long before that.” He pauses. “Do you want me to continue?”

Harvey blinks at him.

“That’s… You learned it by heart?”

Mike just shakes his head. “Not exactly. You’re a corporate lawyer, right? Give me a topic. Any topic.”

Harvey narrows his eyes, but decides, “Civil liability associated with agency.”

“Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves.”

“How did you know that?”

“I read it once.”

“You read it once,” Harvey repeats, “and you still remember the definition word by word?”

“Yes. Because once I read something, I never forget it. And I’m pretty good with numbers too.” He tips his temple. “Perks of an eidetic memory.”

“That’s… quite impressive.”

Harvey licks his lips as he leans in. It makes Mike feel strangely validated. And hot beneath his collar.

“So if I were to ask you about any article you ever read, the lottery numbers from last week, or the list of emergency phone numbers they leave on the nightstand here-“

“I would be able to recite it all to you in perfect detail, yes.” Mike lifts an eyebrow. “It’s not a game I’d want to play, if I were you. If you want to beat me, it’s going to have to be at something else.”

Harvey’s eyes glint with something Mike clearly reads as challenge, and it’s intimidating and intriguing at the same time.

“Fascinating,” he mutters.

Mike shrugs despite the warm shiver running down his spine.

“It’s probably why Mrs. Van Hopper asked me to come along on her travels in the first place. She collects interesting people.”

“Is that why she was so insistent that I had lunch with you yesterday? Because she thinks I’m interesting?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t know whether to feel complimented or insulted.”

Mike waves his hand. “She does it to everyone. Everyone she thinks important, that is.”

“I guess I should be flattered then.”

“Well, it’s not really a surprise, is it? You know, because of Manderley.”

“Hm.”

Instead of replying, Harvey picks up his fork and goes back to eating, his eyes trained on his plate.

Mike frowns. He wonders if the sudden silence should tell him something, but he can’t figure out what. Did he misstep?

“Tell me, what do you usually do for a living when you’re not traveling the world?” Harvey then changes the topic.

“Nothing. This is my only job. I mean, I used to be a bike messenger back in the city, but that’s about it.”

“Hm. And you got any other family?”

“No, they’re all gone. Never had a big family to begin with, and after Grammy died...”

Harvey lowers his fork.

“About that. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Mike swallows past the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m… it’s okay. I mean, it’s not, and I miss her every fucking day, but it’s alright. I had so much time with her. I remember every moment, and I’ll make sure to never forget. What she taught me too. Who she was.”

He bites his lip and shakes his head, the sudden desire to talk more about her overwhelming, because for the first time since she died he feels like he _can_. “She was just so… good, you know? It’s such a terribly insufficient word, but she really, really was. All her life, all she ever did was do things for other people. She was a teacher for a while. I once went through a drawer full of old things, and I found all these letters her students had written her at the end of the year. They loved her. The way they wrote about her, you could have thought she saved their lives or something.” He smiles a little. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she did. She pretty much saved mine, after all.”

“How so?”

“She took me in after my parents died, even though she had virtually no money and no space to raise a kid on the brink of puberty. But she did. And somehow she succeeded, despite every obstacle she faced in the years to come.”

He presses his lips together, letting out a deep breath.

“I wasn’t always an easy kid to raise, and I regret that more than most mistakes I’ve made in my life, but she never once complained. She never made me feel like I was a burden to her, and she never gave up on me.”

He scratches his neck, suddenly self-conscious. “She’s the only one who never did.”

It’s a more personal confession than he meant to make, all too revealing for how little they actually know each other, but Harvey just accepts it, neither surprised nor bothered.

“She did a good job of it, evidently,” he says quietly. “Raising you, that is.”

Mike swallows, only holding his eyes for the span of a heartbeat before he has to look away.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t- you don’t wanna hear about this,” he mutters.

“Who says I don’t?” Harvey folds his hands together, resting his chin on them as he regards him. “I like hearing about you, getting to know you more. You’re an intriguing person, Mike Ross.”

“I- thank you, I suppose. I could say the same about you, you know.”

Harvey just smiles a little.

“You must have loved her a lot, your grandmother,” he then says.

“I did.”

“Tell me more about her,” he asks.

Mike throws him a doubtful look, but when he finds nothing but genuine interest on his face, he clears his throat. “She raised my dad pretty much by herself. I never met my grandfather, he died long before I was born, but that never held her back from doing what she wanted.”

The intrigue in Harvey’s eyes as he watches him like a hawk is impossible to deny. It must mean _something_, but Mike chooses not to focus on it, and as he continues talking, chooses not to focus on keeping up any pretenses anymore either. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it anyway. So he gives up trying to be impressive and just tells his story. He talks, and talks, and the words come without any prompting, like they haven’t in so long, without him having to stop and consider what to say next.

“She made me discover my love for TV, too,” he tells him, grinning. “Our taste was a little different, granted, she never really got why I was into sci-fi and the likes, but she introduced me to all the classics. Casablanca. Gone with the Wind. Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

“Sounds like she was a wise woman,” Harvey says with a nod. “So you like sci-fi? Which do you prefer – Star Wars or Star Trek?”

“Tricky. I’m gonna say Star Wars.”

“You’re wrong, and I’m gonna tell you exactly why.”

Mike’s jaw drops. “Oh my god, you’re a Trekkie?”

“I reject that term as a description of myself, but I do have a soft spot for the franchise. Especially the original series. Captain Kirk is the man.”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief as he listens, because never in his life would he have thought that Harvey is a _nerd_.

For some unfathomable reason it only makes him more attractive. He didn’t even think that was possible, but Harvey seems more than happy to prove him wrong.

After a brief detour to Star Trek and why he’s convinced it’s the best show to ever be produced – Mike doesn’t agree, but finds the whole thing too fascinating to fight him on it – Harvey asks him what other franchises he’s into, and before long he finds himself in an interrogation about his pop culture knowledge and preferences.

He doesn’t know why Harvey is interested in hearing his answers, but he loves that he is, drunk on the feeling of someone listening, really listening to what he has to say. And not just anyone, but Harvey in particular.

It’s only when the waiter comes to refill his glass that he realizes just how much he has actually been talking – about himself and his life, too.

His food has pretty much disappeared without his conscious doing, and he stares at his empty plate and tries to recollect the past few minutes, only vaguely remembering what actually happened, too caught up in the dreamlike haze of it all.

This entire lunch is feeling more surreal by the second, and he grabs his glass and gulps down half of the wine in it, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m babbling. I don’t know what happened.”

Harvey just waves him off.

“Don’t apologize. That was the most enjoyable half hour I’ve had in a long time.”

“I’m… I was just talking about myself,” Mike says, picking at his napkin.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“People tend to think so, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t. Not in this case, anyway. Like I said, you’re intriguing. You take my mind off my own thoughts, and I’ve spent enough time on those recently.”

Mike swallows, not sure what to say and thus opting to keep quiet for a change.

Harvey regards him thoughtfully.

“I see quite a bit of myself in you.”

Blinking at him in surprise, Mike shifts in his seat. “I find that hard to believe.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Why? We are alike in many ways, you and I. We have a shared interest in the law. You’re as immersed in pop culture as I am, even though your taste clearly needs some polishing. I used to be like you, no real direction in life before I went to Harvard.”

Matter-of-factly as the words are, they make Mike wince. It’s true, and it shouldn’t bother him this much to hear it, but it still does.

It bothers him most that Harvey of all people has recognized that fault in him.

“We don’t have any family,” Harvey continues, oblivious to the effect of his words on him. “Well, I do have family, but we’re not in touch, so I tend not to think of them as such.”

“You forget that you have an actual job, though,” Mike negates and shakes his head. “You have a whole law firm, and a home, and all I have is- this.”

“So what?” Harvey twists his glass slowly. “Those things are inconsequential. You think a firm full of people makes up for an empty home? Believe me, it’s just as lonely as a hotel full of strangers.”

Mike closes his mouth, none of the dozen things crossing his mind seeming like the right thing to say. He still doesn’t believe that Harvey and he are alike, the gulf between them far too wide to allow that comparison, but it’s beyond flattering that Harvey evidently doesn’t think so.

Before he can figure out how to respond to the unexpectedly personal remark, the expression on Harvey’s face shifts and he’s back to his usual nonchalance. He waves the waitress over, inquiring once she’s taken their plates, “What do you intend to do with your day off?”

“Oh, I was actually just… gonna read outside for now,” Mike mutters and rubs his arm, suddenly embarrassed about his lack of plans. He was honestly looking forward to just having some time to himself and immersing himself in a good book, but now he wonders why he didn’t choose anything more exciting. Harvey will probably laugh at him for not having better things to do on his free day.

Harvey doesn’t laugh. He just nods, saying, “I’ll give you a ride. Any place in particular you had in mind?”

“Oh, I’m not- you really don’t have to do that. Please don’t feel obligated to spend more time with me just because we both happen to be here. You have things to do, I’m sure.”

“Nonsense. I have nothing but some mind-numbingly boring paperwork ahead of me, and it’s a beautiful day for a ride. I’ll come with you. Unless you don’t want the company, of course.”

“No, I do,” Mike hurries to assure him. “That would be… really nice, actually. Your company, I mean.”

“Do you have your book with you?”

“Yes,” Mike agrees, patting his bag.

Harvey nods, satisfied.

“It’s a date then. Also, just to make it clear, I never feel obligated to spend time with anyone. If I do, it’s because I want to.”

Mike swallows. “Alright, cool,” he says, clearing his throat. The corner of Harvey’s mouth lifts.

“Now, where to? And don’t say you were going to stay at the hotel. I won’t accept it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Mike defends himself, perhaps a little too fiercely, because Harvey chuckles as he gets up. “I suppose anywhere by the sea would be nice.”

“The sea it is. Let’s see where it takes us.”

Getting up, Mike follows Harvey out of the dining room in a bit of a haze.

The car he leads him to is beautiful, even to someone like him who couldn’t care less about vehicles, and it looks so expensive that Mike almost doesn’t want to touch it.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to. Harvey, ever the perfect gentleman, holds the door open for him with a charming smile, and he sits down delicately and listens to him shutting the door, wondering how on earth he got into this situation.

Harvey slides into the driver’s seat next to him, starting the engine and driving out of the parking lot smoothly.

It’s clear that this is not just a way of transportation for him. He drives the car like it’s something beautiful, like it deserves to be treated with respect and devotion, the touch of his hands on the wheel as gentle as if it were a living, breathing thing.

Mike watches breathlessly out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to stare and yet unable to tear his gaze away. He finds himself wishing that he would touch _him_ like that, and the next moment wants to sink into the ground when he realizes that he’s jealous of a damn car.

And yet he still can’t look away.

It’s quiet as they drive. It’s not uncomfortable, but Mike is glad nevertheless when Harvey tells him to turn on the radio, the thought of something else to focus on than the pounding of his own heart sounding heavenly.

He switches from channel to channel, looking for the right song. When he finds a steady tune, upbeat without being too hyped, he sits back with a satisfied smile.

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

Mike tenses. “You don’t like the music?”

Harvey shakes his head. “By taking this job,” he clarifies. “You are not happy, you’re wasting your skills, and valuable time on top of it. It’s never going to get you anywhere. I mean, where is this supposed to go? Do you have a plan?”

Oh. That.

“I don’t,” he admits quietly, staring at his hands. “I came here intending to figure something out along the way, but so far I haven’t.”

“Hm,” Harvey makes. Mike glances at him, but he can’t tell what he’s thinking, and when he says nothing else on the matter he allows himself to relax back into his seat and enjoy the ride.

He has no idea where Harvey is taking him, but he doesn’t mind, alternating between staring out of the window to catch as many glimpses of his surroundings as possible and stealing glances at Harvey from the corner of his eye. It’s quite addictive. He never knew driving could be so attractive.

It speaks for Monte Carlo that his companion isn’t the only intriguing sight around. He soaks up the view presenting itself to them as Harvey takes them out of the city and towards the mountains.

It may just be the adrenaline of being in a fast car, that particular prickling sensation in his stomach, but sitting here next to Harvey on their way to wherever the hell it takes them as long as they get there fast, is elevating somehow. He feels special, important, like he actually has a place here, like Harvey didn’t invite him on this ride out of sheer randomness.

He feels _alive_.

Mike can’t remember the last time he did.

The inexplicable urge to laugh sits right behind his chest, giddy and exhilarated, just waiting to slip out when he lets it. He sees no reason not to.

They don’t speak, the radio playing in the background and the low buzz of the engine the only sounds, but he doesn’t mind, quietly humming to himself as he takes everything in, all the while acutely aware of Harvey’s presence beside him.

He doesn’t notice the different atmosphere until they come to a rather abrupt halt, but when he looks over at Harvey he realizes that it must have changed a while ago. Harvey’s expression is far from what it was when they started, the look in his eyes no longer calm and focused but troubled, and very far away.

“Harvey?” he asks carefully, startling when he moves without warning, unbuckling his belt and opening the door in one fluid motion. Mike blinks after him before hurrying to move as well, taking in the place they’ve stopped at.

They’re on a cliff, a little off the road, a spectacular view of the sea spreading out before them. The water sparkles where the sunlight hits the waves, the boats near the coast looking small from up here, almost like toys.

It’s beautiful. And it must mean something to Harvey, from the way he’s taking it in. His eyes have a distant look in them, an expression that seems almost pained. Like he’s not here at all.

Mike doesn’t know if he should speak or not. He shifts his weight, his hands clutching the open door of the car in search of something to hold on to. Harvey takes a few steps, his body rigid when he comes to a halt, staring at the view ahead like it holds the answer to a question he’d rather not have received.

At one point the quiet grows too heavy for Mike to carry.

“Have you been here before?”

His timid voice breaks the spell the view has on Harvey. He turns around, looking at him as if he forgot he was there.

Mike’s stomach sinks. It’s like every minute of the past few hours instantly becomes meaningless as Harvey looks at him like a stranger. And that’s all he is, isn’t he? They never were anything else. All the flirting and teasing and the conversations they’ve had, it must be just another Tuesday for him.

Here Mike was, thinking that they were having a moment, that there was _something_ building between them, and all that time it probably meant nothing to him.

Typical. That’s what he does, every single time. He always gets ahead of himself.

“I’m sorry,” Harvey says, shaking his stupor off. “Yes, I have been. Years ago. I wanted to see if it had changed at all.”

Mike swallows, gripping the cold metal of the door. “And has it?”

“No.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that answer. It should be a good thing, shouldn’t it? But out of Harvey’s mouth, it sounds like a blemish. Like the place has failed him somehow.

“Come on,” he says abruptly, turning on the spot. “Let’s go.”

Mike gets back into the car quietly. They don’t talk as they drive away, and even though he feels like they’re leaving the strange atmosphere that came with that place behind as well, he still doesn’t know how to fill the silence. Every one of the things he might say feels entirely inadequate or inappropriate, and after the way Harvey looked at him he’s not sure if he should speak at all.

It’s him who eventually breaks the quiet, his voice entirely clear of whatever memory possessed him earlier.

“I want to take you to a place not far from here. If I remember correctly, it would make for a perfect reading spot.”

“Sure,” Mike agrees, clearing his throat when his voice comes out rough after the prolonged silence. “That sounds good.”

Harvey glances at him briefly.

“What are you reading right now?” he inquires.

“Little Women,” Mike tells him, and then, encouraged by his question, adds, “It’s not my first time, but I really like it.”

“It’s a good book,” Harvey agrees.

“It was my grandmother’s favorite.”

Harvey glances at him again, smiling, and his eyes linger on him a little too long before he turns back to the road and says, “I can see what you meant when you told me about her. She sounds like someone I would have liked.”

“She would have liked you too,” Mike lets slip, his voice soft. He can practically hear her gushing about his handsome looks and how nice he’s been to Mike, how happy she is that he found someone he can talk to.

He catches Harvey’s eyes, the hint of surprise in them, the subsequent warmth, and when they look away they are both smiling.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach their destination. It’s not as secluded as the one they stopped at before, but calm enough for Mike to still be able to enjoy his book with a clear view of the sea.

“Is this what you imagined?”

Not in any way is this day what he imagined, but Mike nods because the view is beautiful and he doesn’t want to make Harvey drive him around all day, as much as he’s enjoying the time with him.

“Let’s sit over here,” Harvey suggests, nodding at a bench that’s a little farther away from the people nearby. The added privacy makes Mike’s heart flutter as he sits down and opens his book.

He starts reading, but keeps stealing glances at Harvey, wondering what the hell he is doing. He just looks at the sea for the most part, sometimes returning Mike’s looks with a smile, sometimes typing something on his phone. Several times Mike wants to ask if he isn’t bored, but he seems perfectly content sitting here, not doing all that much, and spending the afternoon with him.

Mike only lasts for a good hour before he shuts his book and asks to go back, the idea of wasting Harvey’s time, that he’s secretly bored out of his mind and regrets ever having offered Mike the ride, not letting him relax.

“Are you sure?” Harvey asks, but when he nods he just gets up and holds out his hand. It’s not that Mike actually needs the help, but he takes it nevertheless, relishing how warm it feels in his.

“Thank you for taking me here,” he says when they’re in the car and Harvey starts the engine.

“Don’t mention it. I do this sort of thing way too rarely. It was good for me too.”

“I’m glad.” Mike bites his lip. “Why don’t you? Because of work?”

“Yes.”

Mike glances at him. “Tell me,” he asks. “About Manderley. What’s it like?”

Harvey takes a moment to reply.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about it,” he begins. “Manderley is an old firm, much older than me. It’s been in many hands before it came into mine. We have close to 200 lawyers working for us and about as many paralegals, plus a handful of interns from Cambridge and the likes every year.”

Mike stares at Harvey as he talks about the firm, listening intently. Most of what he says is news to him, and he files the information away for later, vowing to read up on Manderley’s history as soon as he gets the chance. He notices that all Harvey tells him are facts, that he doesn’t talk about what it’s like to be in charge of so many people or how he came to be, and Mike makes a mental note to look into that too.

“It sounds like quite the place to work at,” he says when Harvey is done. “Never mind to manage.”

“It sure is.” Harvey throws him a look. “You should see it sometime. I’m sure you would like it.”

Mike swallows. “I don’t know. What would I even do there except be in the way?”

“Visit me,” Harvey says lightly. “Or work. We could figure something out.”

“I- uh, I don’t know about that,” he stammers.

Harvey hums thoughtfully.

“You never got around to telling me why you aren’t a lawyer, you know.”

Mike is well aware of the fact, though he kind of hoped that it had slipped Harvey’s mind. Of course it hadn’t.

“It’s a pretty embarrassing story,” he mutters. “And not very flattering.”

“So? You’re not here to impress me.”

That much is obvious. Mike suppresses a wince, and Harvey, oblivious to his discomfort, continues, “What are you afraid of, that I’ll think less of you?”

“You might,” he says quietly.

“Try me.”

Mike lets out a deep breath. “I told you about my memory, right?”

Harvey nods, and he goes on to explain, “I had this friend, Trevor. We pretty much grew up together. He was there for me when the accident happened and… for everything afterwards, and even though it probably wasn’t the healthiest friendship in hindsight, I was really glad to have him. He did get me into some trouble, though. Eventually he got the idea to use my memory to sell test answers. And it was totally my own fault for agreeing to it, but I was…“

“Young and needed the money,” Harvey finishes for him, nodding. “I see. What happened then?”

“We did sell the answers. To a girl who turned out to be the dean’s daughter.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep. I lost my scholarship, Harvard, everything. I paid for that mistake thoroughly.”

It still feels like a knife to his gut when he thinks about what he lost. He never really forgave himself for that, and the idea of what Harvey might think of him now only makes it worse.

“What about Trevor?”

Mike shrugs. “There was no need for both of us to go down.”

He leaves it at that, but Harvey narrows his eyes, clearly reading between the lines.

“Where is he now?”

“Still in New York. I haven’t really talked to him since I left, and even before that… we drifted apart. He had his studies to focus on, I had my job and Grammy. I think it’s probably for the best. Grammy was right, he wasn’t exactly a good influence.”

“It sounds like it,” Harvey agrees. “The way I see it, everyone makes mistakes, but you’ve made yours now. You need to move on, and you can’t if he’s weighing you down.”

Mike opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“You’re right,” he eventually says. “I still think it’s sad that things had to come to this, but I know that this is what’s best.”

“Of course you’re sad. He meant something to you. You can’t change that, and you shouldn’t. You can cherish his memory while still acknowledging that circumstances have changed and he’s not good for you anymore.”

Mike glances at him at the tone of his voice, the traces of bitterness seeping into his words that can’t have anything to do with Trevor. Part of him wants to ask, but he doesn’t feel like it’s his place, and he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer anyway. Why should he? Mike is just some screw-up he’s driving around Monaco to pass the time, after all. Not someone to confide in.

Before his bleak mood can swallow him whole, Harvey says, much more neutral now, “Could you open the glovebox for me?”

Mike does, and he continues, “There’s a book in there. Gray cover.”

After a little rummaging Mike pulls it out, glancing at the title. “Essential Qualities of the Professional Lawyer?”

Harvey nods. “You can read it, if you want. It’s not exactly new, nor the best book I’ve ever read, but there’s a solid foundation. I found it quite enjoyable.” He takes his eyes off the road to regard him briefly, but intently. “Just because you got kicked out of school doesn’t mean you have to give up on your dream. It doesn’t mean you can’t keep feeding your passion. If you think you’re done with the law, then put it back and forget about it. But something tells me that you aren’t.”

Mike looks at the cover, his fingers curling around the book. Clearing his throat, he decides, “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

It’s not just what he said that makes him want to keep it. It’s the idea of having something of Harvey’s to hold on to, even if only for a little while, that appeals to him, ridiculous as it is.

Harvey doesn’t say anything, but Mike catches the corner of his mouth lifting as he glances at him. He looks out of the window, biting his lip to keep his own smile at bay.

The ride home passes too quickly for his taste. The sight of the hotel when it appears in front of them is an unwelcome reminder of his real life waiting for him back here.

“I have some errands to run, so I’ll just drop you off,” Harvey explains, pulling up by the entrance.

“Oh. Right,” Mike says, hoping the disappointment at the sudden dismissal doesn’t sound too clearly in his voice. He opens the door, hesitating, but finds himself at a loss for words.

“Thanks for the ride,” he eventually says, trite and unimaginative. Harvey just smiles.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. I… I’ll see you around, then.”

He gets out of the car before he can embarrass himself further, climbing two steps before he pauses to watch Harvey disappear around the corner. He heaves a sigh and continues walking, feeling distinctly like a child whose playtime is over.

He should have known it was going to end like this, no grand gesture, no promises, but he still finds himself disappointed. At least he still has the book. That will give him an excuse to talk to him again.

The rest of the day stretches out before him when he returns to his room. He’s back earlier than he intended, and after a quick glance at the time Mike takes his edition of Little Women and Harvey’s book to head out to the hotel’s terrace.

It’s not quite the view he had earlier, nor is the company as appealing, but it will do. Asking the waiter for a glass of lemonade, he settles in to read.

His focus keeps drifting from the familiar words. It’s not his first time reading the story by far, but he soon realizes that it’s pointless and shuts the book, instead staring out at the garden as he thinks about today and what possessed Harvey to go on this trip with him. Even more importantly, he wonders if he regrets it.

He doesn’t think that Harvey is the type to force himself through social interactions he has no interest in, but he did drop him off awfully quickly there. And what the hell was he thinking about when he looked so far away and forgot all about him? What did he even want with Mike, if he’s just going to toss him aside?

Admittedly, that’s probably not fair to him. It’s not like he owes Mike anything, and they still spent a few nice hours together despite all that. And he did go out of his way to do nice things for him, like inviting him to lunch, or taking him on a ride, or lending him that book.

Looking down, Mike picks it up from the table before him, turning it over in his hands. It’s far from how tattered his edition of Little Women is, but the spine is broken at several points, the top left corner of the cover a little bent from where Harvey must have held it. He flips through the pages, looking for annotations before going back to the start, where he promptly halts.

Someone has left a short note beneath the title. Without even reading a word of it, Mike can tell by the handwriting that it wasn’t Harvey.

_Happy Birthday, Harvey – maybe you will finally learn something. Scottie x_

Mike blinks at the letters. It’s not just the little kiss at the end that catches his eye, it’s the tone of the whole message, its mere existence.

He shouldn’t have read this. Harvey clearly forgot that it was there, or he wouldn’t have given him the book. He wouldn’t have wanted him to see this.

But now he did, and even without his memory he doesn’t think he could forget it again.

Scottie. He’s heard that name before, of course. Dana Scott, the second half of the dazzling duo that took over Manderley and brought it to international fame. Dana Scott, Harvey’s partner in every sense of the word.

Dana Scott, recently deceased, leaving Harvey a grieving widower, a shell of his former self if Mrs. Van Hopper is to be believed.

Mike doesn’t know much about what happened. Mrs. Van Hopper called it a terrible tragedy. All he knows is that she drowned while they were on a trip.

He swallows against the bile rising in his throat. The sight of the words makes him sick, and so he shuts the book and blindly grabs the second one, leaving the terrace without a look back. He feels like he just saw something secret, and he doesn’t want to think about this part of Harvey’s life that he never even wanted him to know about.

Mike had no desire to know about it either. But now he does, and like he told Harvey, once he knows something, he can’t unknow it.

People think it’s a blessing, but he knows better.

It just always gets him in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

His nose tickles when he wakes up, opening his eyes to find the room flooded with sunlight. He must have forgotten to pull the drapes when he got back in the early hours of the morning, too caught up in his thoughts about Harvey and his memories of the night, and the one before, and the one before…

He shuts his eyes and exhales deeply, stretching before he rolls over and gazes out of his window without quite seeing anything.

Like every morning for the past two weeks, he hasn’t been awake five minutes before Harvey is already on his mind again. There’s no point in lying to himself, not when the evidence is this damning. He has a crush on the man. A bad one. He is in way too deep already, and it’s starting to consume his every thought.

If only he knew how to make it stop.

Throwing the covers back to slide out of bed, the thought of seeing Harvey again making him move just a little faster where otherwise he would have lingered, he tries to quash the voice in his head telling him that any attempts at figuring it out are in vain.

The smart thing would be to stay away from him, of course. To make sure his feelings don’t get out of hand, that he doesn’t get too attached to something he’s inevitably going to lose, never mind that he barely even _has_ it.

But he knows in the same instance that he’s never going to do that. Already his heart is skipping a beat at the thought of going downstairs and meeting him, of sneaking out and returning just before lunch so that Mrs. Van Hopper doesn’t ask any questions.

She still does, of course.

“What have you been doing?” she wants to know as she cuts her meat, her attention only half on him but even so entirely unwanted.

“Tennis practice,” Mike tells her, the lie falling from his lips easily.

The answer satisfies her. “Good. You could use some muscle. You’ve got to look like something if you want to catch people’s attention. Are you working on your underhand? It’s abysmal.”

Mike nods absently. He has missed every one of the tennis lessons she wanted him to take since she got sick, instead spending his mornings going on a ride with Harvey to somewhere new every day. He doesn’t know how exactly it became a habit, but he remembers every word they spoke during those precious stolen hours, every conversation they had, his own trembling hands and Harvey’s eyes glinting in the sunlight when he let down the windows, the sound of his own voice when he responded to him, just a touch too breathless, betraying his admiration.

Harvey always awaits him in the mornings, no matter when Mike makes it downstairs. He made sure to set his alarm early once he realized that, allowing them more time together before they had to return to the hotel. He always sits there with his newspaper, deeply engrossed, only to drop it carelessly when he sees him, buttoning his jacket as he gets up to ask him how he’s doing and where he wants to go today.

Mike could not care less about their destination – Harvey has taken him to some great places, but it’s always his company that makes their trips so special to him. Not rarely has he wished for the ability to bottle up these moments with him, to keep them fresh and clear and go back to them when he wants because no matter how good his memory is, it could never do the reality of it justice.

“I don’t want to go back,” he said once, the adrenaline of being in a fast car on an empty street with the object of his affection so close that he could smell him letting the words slip out. “I wish we could just stay in this moment forever. Or save it somehow so I could go back and revisit it over and over. Have you ever had that?”

“Is that because of the view or my extraordinary driving skills?” Harvey asked, his voice faintly amused, but when Mike turned to him there was a thoughtful look in his eyes that didn’t quite match his tone.

“Not too often,” he said when he realized that Mike was waiting for a response. “Not anymore at least.”

It’s not what he thought he’d hear at all.

It’s not what he wanted to at any rate.

Mike sank into his seat, his cheeks burning with humiliation. What a stupid thing for him to say. He probably enjoyed these trips way more than Harvey did. For him they must be but a pastime, to keep him from getting bored or to offer a distraction from work.

“Why me?” he demanded, hearing an answer suddenly crucial to him.

Harvey glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow. “Why you what?”

“Why are you taking me on these trips? I mean, do you even care? Am I just the next best thing?”

“What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

Mike lifted his shoulders. “I just don’t know why I’m even here if you’re not enjoying this, or, I don’t know, don’t want to tell me things. If it’s only because you pity me, I don’t…”

He trailed off, letting out a frustrated breath. “It’s just, you know everything there is to know about me. But I still barely know more about you than I did the day we met.”

Harvey was silent.

“And what’s that?”

Mike swallowed, reluctantly telling him, “You’re the sole managing partner of Manderley. And you lost your wife.”

Harvey didn’t respond, instead slowing down the car until he stopped at the side of the road and turned to him.

“You talked about revisiting old memories,” he began. “I don’t want that. All my memories are tainted. Something happened to me a year ago that made me want to forget every part of my life that led up to it. I broke my own rule when I revisited that cliff the first time we had lunch, but to my surprise it wasn’t all bad. And I think it’s because you were there with me.” His eyes narrowed. “Because it does make a difference to me whether you’re here or not. And I want you here. And if you don’t believe that, you can get out of this car right now. I don’t do charity.”

Mike’s cheeks burned. He couldn’t meet Harvey’s eyes, couldn’t withstand the intensity in them as he processed his words, as heartfelt as they were ruthless.

The silence stretched as they sat there. He had no idea what to say. Harvey didn’t offer any help either, just waiting for him to make a move.

“It’s late,” he eventually murmured. “We should get back.”

Harvey turned and started the engine, driving them to the hotel in silence.

Mike’s heart was pounding the entire time as he tried to think of a way to respond that might come close to what he was thinking, but he couldn’t come up with anything.

It was Harvey who eventually broke the silence again, parking the car before turning to Mike. His heart skipped a beat when he took his hand, holding it gently.

“Maybe I haven’t been too clear about my intentions. I do apologize if I made you feel unwanted.”

_Wanted_. Mike barely had time to process the implications of that before Harvey lifted his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles, a tender brush of his lips that set all of Mike’s nerve endings on fire instantly.

He straightened, still holding his hand. When their eyes met Mike was certain that Harvey could see exactly how flustered he was, but he only regarded him quietly and then shook his head.

“To hell with this,” he muttered, cupping his cheek and leaning in.

Mike could have moved away if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He didn’t move at all, stunned into perfect stillness as Harvey closed the distance between them. His lips were soft and warm when they met his, the pressure never straying from the gentle side, yet firm and purposeful, leaving no doubt about the intent behind it.

Mike could have lost himself in that kiss. He could have lived inside of it, if it had lasted just a little longer, if it hadn’t been over before he knew it and he actually got the chance to reciprocate.

Harvey sat back when they parted, tracing Mike’s lip with his thumb where he’d touched him mere seconds ago.

“I don’t really know how to deal with you,” he admitted. “You’re very strong, and very delicate, and I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite like you.”

His hand fell away. Mike felt the loss of contact acutely.

“You can forget about this. You can go now and never get into my car again if this is not what you want. But it’s what I want. That’s what this is about. That’s why I chose you.”

He didn’t give him a chance to say anything in response, instead leaving the car without another word, and Mike followed him into the hotel numbly, none of his surroundings seeming quite real to him.

“I’ll see you around,” was all Harvey said before he left him right there to blink after him in perplexed silence.

Touching his lips, a giddy smile spread on his face that he couldn’t have suppressed if he’d tried.

That was the first night Mike knocked on Harvey’s door, his heart in his throat as he waited for a response.

Harvey only seemed surprised to see him for a split second.

“I want it too,” Mike said breathlessly.

Harvey regarded him in silence. Then he stepped aside to let him in.

Mike turned around as soon as he’d closed the door, licking his lips. Harvey’s eyes dropped to his mouth. “I really, _really_ want it, actually.”

“Good,” Harvey murmured, already pulling him closer. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He spent almost every night there since, sneaking back into his room in the early hours of the morning in case Mrs. Van Hopper ever came looking for him.

“I must say, I’m quite bored here,” she announces that moment, pulling him out of his reminiscing. “I thought there’d be more interesting company in a place like this. We’ve barely met anyone.” Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Is Harvey Specter still here?”

“I believe so,” Mike says, not looking at her as he takes a sip of his lemonade. “I saw him at the restaurant the other day.”

She hums thoughtfully. “He’s a weird man,” she remarks. “I expected him to at least offer his services after making our acquaintance, but nothing.”

Oh, he’s been offering his services alright. Just not to her.

“And he’s not very talkative either,” she continues, thankfully oblivious to his barely concealed smirk. “No interesting stories, no funny anecdotes. I think he works too much, especially since that terrible accident. Manderley must be a wonderful firm, you know. I read all about what he did with it, he and his wife. I never had the pleasure of meeting her, but I heard all the stories. She must have been quite the force to be reckoned with. I bet she kept him on his toes.”

Pushing her plate aside, she looks around the room, her lips curled with displeasure. “This food is boring me. I’ve had quite enough. Would you fetch me the dessert menu?”

Mike gets up, but his mind is elsewhere as he grabs a card from another table, chasing the phantom by the name of Mrs. Scott, or Scottie, as she apparently went by.

Mrs. Van Hopper is right, she must have been amazing. Mike wonders what she was like, to be Harvey’s equal, to not just keep up with him but _challenge_ him, to make Harvey want to work with her, marry her, spend his life with her. He wishes desperately that he knew more about her despite the fact that it wouldn’t change a thing, would likely only make him feel worse. He still wants to know.

It’s not like he can just _ask_, though. His questions will have to remain unanswered, because the one person who could tell him is the one person he is never going to bring it up with, not with how deep his grief clearly still sits. And Mike is familiar with the sensation. He knows how it eats at the heart. He won’t put Harvey through that again just to get some answers.

No, there’s no way he’s going to ask about her.

That doesn’t mean he stops wondering, though.

*

He knew it was going to happen sooner or later, of course. He knew that the blissful little bubble belonging only to Harvey and him would have to burst eventually, but it still doesn’t prepare him for the afternoon Mrs. Van Hopper looks up from their boring game of bridge to announce, “I’m tired of Monte Carlo. Let’s pack our bags after dinner. I want to leave tomorrow.”

He doesn’t have much of a say in it, so Mike swallows the dread rising in his throat at the thought of leaving and just nods. It shouldn’t really matter. This was always where he was going to end up, maybe not in Monaco but in some other boring hotel somewhere around the world, wasting his afternoons playing bridge or talking to people he has no interest in.

People who aren’t Harvey.

That’s what’s getting to him. They’ve been here for three weeks now, and he knew from the outset that one of them was going to leave at some point. But knowing that time is limited and actually facing their impending goodbye is something else entirely.

Mike grips the edge of the table, dizzy with the realization of how little time they actually have left.

“Excuse me,” he mutters, pushing his chair back as he heads towards the bathroom to get a moment to himself. Mrs. Van Hopper doesn’t even look up.

Locking himself in, he sinks against the door and closes his eyes with a deep breath.

So this is it. Just when he found something worth holding onto he’ll have to give it up again.

It was never supposed to turn into this. It was supposed to be casual, a mutually beneficial companionship while they’re both here, nothing to break either of their hearts when it inevitably ended.

He wonders if he will at least get to say goodbye properly, if he’ll have to do it in the lobby with everyone watching, if he will get to kiss Harvey one last time before he has to go.

He’s not getting his hopes up.

He can already see it, already feels the awkwardness tightening his chest as they shake hands like they were nothing more than acquaintances. _You’ll have to visit sometime_, Harvey will say, and Mike will nod and tell him, _I never thanked you for your kindness_, and that will be the last they ever see of each other.

This is it.

He won’t even get another night with him. Harvey is in Cannes all day and won’t return until the early morning, which means that Mike is robbed of one last night between his sheets, one last night feeling the warmth of his lips and the touch of his skin and pretending that it could mean something, that he could make it last if he just wished hard enough.

Well, he couldn’t. It’s over. The last time already happened and Mike failed to appreciate it properly, failed to hold on to it and savor the feeling as much as he could.

He wipes his nose, willing the unbidden tears welling up in his eyes to retreat. When he has composed himself enough to face Mrs. Van Hopper again, he leaves the bathroom stall and heads back into the restaurant, for once quite glad that she is too absorbed in herself to really pay attention to him.

As bleak as the afternoon is, the evening is even more depressing when, instead of excusing himself early to sneak into Harvey’s suite, Mike is left to stand in his room to pack his bags. It doesn’t matter how much he doesn’t want to, how much he drags his feet. By the time he goes to bed all his earthly possessions are neatly packed away in a suitcase and a small bag, ready to be put in the back of a car and taken somewhere else.

He barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning endlessly as he yearns for Harvey’s warmth beside him, thinking about what he would say to him if he were here, if he had the courage to actually speak what’s on his mind.

Getting up at the first glimpse of sunlight, he showers and puts away the last of his toiletries, then paces his room until it’s late enough for Harvey to be back.

It’s probably not quite socially acceptable to bang on someone’s door at seven in the morning, but needs must, and Harvey doesn’t look too put out when he opens up, merely lifting an eyebrow.

Mike is too relieved to see him to really care.

“Somebody’s eager this morning. Did you miss me that much?”

“I’m leaving,” Mike bursts out, shaking his head when the air escapes him in a rush now that he finally got it out. “I’m… we’re leaving today. I just wanted to let you know.”

It’s not all he wants to do by far, but no matter how much he wants to cry about having to go or beg Harvey to do something so he can stay, it’s not going to change anything.

Harvey regards him quietly, a crease in his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I would have, but I only found out yesterday. Apparently Mrs. Van Hopper got bored with the city.”

Harvey hums. “Sit down,” he then asks, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ll be with you in five.”

Mike blinks when he turns around and heads for the bathroom, but goes inside and closes the door. He sits down on the bed, folding his hand in his lap. Harvey seems in no rush to make use of the short while they have left – either he doesn’t understand the urgency or just doesn’t care that their time is running out, which doesn’t exactly make him feel better. He lets his eyes roam around the room to distract himself, studying what he finds there while he waits.

He has been here enough times by now to know Harvey’s belongings by heart, but it never stops fascinating him to see what he has lying around and what it says about him, why he brought that particular book despite not having read more than a few pages since Mike first saw it, what the lotion on his nightstand smells like, or the selection of ties he still hasn’t seen the full extent of.

He’s contemplating the fact that he never will now when Harvey comes out of the bathroom and stops in front of him, straightening his tie – a light blue today, which is probably a coincidence but still makes Mike’s heart jostle in his chest.

“Let’s have breakfast.”

Mike stares at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I already ate.”

A granola bar he found at the bottom of his bag that he didn’t wanna take with him, granted, but Harvey doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t think he could get down much more right now anyway.

“Still,” Harvey says, opening the door. “Come with me. Please.”

Mike throws him a doubtful look before he gets up and stalks past him, annoyed by his lack of reaction to their imminent goodbye. “Fine.”

Harvey’s amused smile as he follows doesn’t escape him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?” he asks when they have sat down at a table on the terrace, studying the menu.

“I’m sure.”

“Have something to drink then. Orange juice? Coffee? I know how much you like the cappuccino here.”

“I could have some, I guess,” Mike mumbles, and Harvey nods, satisfied, and waves the waiter over.

He orders enough breakfast for Mike to have some if he changes his mind, just lifting his eyebrows innocently when he throws him a look, and then scans the list of beverages like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Fine. If he isn’t going to start talking, then Mike will.

“How was Cannes?”

It’s not the most pressing of all his questions, but it seems to get Harvey talking.

“Beautiful. It’s a shame I didn’t get to stay longer. I would have liked to go back there with you, show you around. Alas, there’s no time for any of that now.”

Mike presses his lips together. He would have liked to see Cannes with Harvey. Then again, he would have liked to go anywhere with him.

“Where are you headed next?”

“We’re going back to New York for a few days, apparently. I don’t know what’s the plan after that.”

Harvey hums. “So Mrs. Van Hopper is going home. Well, so am I, eventually. She’s going to New York, and I am going to Manderley.” He tilts his head. “Tell me, which one sounds better to you?”

Mike frowns. “I’m… what do you mean?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t think I do,” Mike says carefully.

Harvey closes the menu and puts it back, his eyes now trained on him. All nonchalance is gone as he fixes him with his gaze.

“I’m serious, Mike. You can go back to New York with her, or you can come to London with me. It’s your choice.”

“I- for real? You want me to just… leave everything behind and come to London with you?”

Harvey nods, as if it weren’t the most preposterous idea he has ever heard.

“I did tell you there was a place for you at Manderley.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

He does not. Mike shuts his mouth with a click.

“Okay, just… never mind the fact that this is crazy, _if_ we actually did this-“ He waves between them, shaking his head- “How would that work? Am I supposed to be, like, your secretary or something?”

“I was rather thinking my boyfriend, but if the shoe fits…”

Mike nearly chokes.

“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat. He shakes his head, aiming for nonchalant but failing rather spectacularly. “I guess that’s- I could live with that.”

Harvey chuckles.

“There would be work for you at Manderley, of course, but not in that capacity. I already have a secretary and she is quite irreplaceable. And besides, I have something else in mind for you.”

This is just getting wilder by the second. Harvey is not just suggesting this, he has apparently been thinking about it for a while from the sound of it.

Nothing Mike might say would come close to what he’s thinking, so he decides to just roll with it. Sitting back, he waves his hand expectantly. “Well, let’s hear it.”

Harvey leans in, all business. “You and I both know that you’re not happy with your life right now. You may think that one day, you’re going to take the plunge and pursue your dreams, but I can assure you that if you don’t do it right now, you never will. What’s going to change in five, ten, twenty years? I’ll tell you what, nothing. Except that you’ll be older and burned out from doing something you’re not actually interested in.”

It’s fascinating, to see Harvey transform into his lawyer persona before his eyes. The change is miniscule, barely there, but still clear as day as he becomes just a little more authoritative, just a little harder to resist. This isn’t the Harvey who teased him and played around as they flirted back and forth, gauging his reaction, letting him decide where things were headed. This is a Harvey who wants something, and he is going to get it no matter what. This is Harvey Specter, the best closer in all of London.

How could Mike withstand him?

“If you take the plunge now, on the other hand, what the hell do you have to lose? Again, it’s nothing. You’re wasted in a job like this. You should do something else. Something closer to your interests and talents.”

“So something with the law,” Mike says.

“Exactly. Manderley is perfect for that. Start as a paralegal. Familiarize yourself with the work, get an idea of what it’s actually like to be part of that cutthroat world. I don’t know what kind of things you’ve been imagining, but I’m telling you right now, they are worse.”

“That’s… not very reassuring.”

“I wouldn’t suggest that you get into it if I didn’t believe you had the stomach for it,” Harvey says simply. He considers him, then leans back and says idly, “Now, you _could_ stick with that. Being a paralegal, helping out whatever hotshot lawyer you’re working with that week. Or you could work at the firm and go to school on the side. Get a degree yourself. Become a lawyer like you always wanted to.”

Mike’s jaw drops. Pulling up his shoulders, he shakes his head and says, “Harvey, I can’t…“

“Why not? Because of what happened with Harvard? Well, I’ve got some news for you. The US isn’t the only country with good law schools, and no one knows what happened back there in London. No one cares, anyway, not when you work at Manderley and have a recommendation with my name on it.”

Mike opens his mouth to protest, because he feels like he _should_, because there’s no way it could be that easy, but when he thinks about it he can’t really come up with anything speaking against it.

Harvey looks like he has already won. Mike can’t help but think of the metaphorical cat savoring the cream when he says, “It’s not just our good reputation you would benefit from. The experience you would get working for me is unparalleled. There’s a reason Manderley is one of the best firms nationwide. Everyone who works with me takes their job seriously. You couldn’t find a better place to learn.”

Mike nods slowly, reaching for his cappuccino to take a few sips as he thinks.

All of that sounds incredible, of course.

His mind, however, is still stuck on the word _boyfriend_.

He swallows, lowering his mug and shaking his head. “Okay, that’s amazing and all, obviously, but you can’t just bring back a boyfriend from Monaco.”

Harvey lifts an eyebrow. “Why not? I can do whatever I want. Whoever has a problem with it can look for a new job.”

“No one is going to accept me,” Mike insists. Especially so soon after Scottie, he adds in his mind. “Or, you know, take me seriously.”

And why should they?

He’s just a fling Harvey met during his trip that he decided to keep around a while longer. He’s a screw-up who has literally nothing to show for himself and the first 24 years of his life. He’s not impressive to anyone, not in his achievements, not in his abilities, and definitely not in his looks. Certainly not a trophy to gloat with, a proud conquest to share over lunch.

He’s not like Scottie was in any way, that’s for sure.

“Then perhaps they will accept my fiancé.”

The mug nearly slips out of his grip. His hand burns where the contents swapped over, but he barely notices, putting it down as an afterthought as he stares at Harvey, who simply returns the look.

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m dead serious.”

Mike opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“I’m confused,” he announces, his words still not making sense to him. “Is this a business proposal or a… proposal proposal?”

“It’s both.” Harvey crosses his legs and takes a sip of his coffee, giving Mike time to process. “Look, this is all very sudden, I understand. We don’t have to get married tomorrow, or next month, or even next year. But I like your company, you obviously enjoy mine…”

Mike flushes, but Harvey says it without mockery or judgment, a simple fact that he couldn’t deny anyway.

“And It would give you a certain status. Plus, it might make things easier with your visa application.”

Of course. He would need a visa. Because he’d be moving to another country, permanently.

He didn’t even think about that. God, this is madness. Earlier this morning he was convinced that he’d go back to New York and never see Harvey again, and now he is seriously considering leaving everything behind and moving to a whole other continent with him.

There is so much to consider, so many things that haven’t even crossed his mind yet. Moving to London would be a lot of work, especially on such short notice. He would have to tell Mrs. Van Hopper that he quits. He did end his lease before he came here, so he wouldn’t need to worry about his belongings. All of those are right here with him. He’d have to get a new phone number though. Apply for his visa. Read up on insurances. The list is endless, keeps growing the more he thinks about it, and he only realizes how long he’s been quiet when Harvey shifts, a frown creasing his forehead.

“It seems you didn’t take my suggestion as well as I hoped. I’m sorry if I made the wrong call. I was under the impression that you were well on your way to falling for me.”

“I was,” Mike blurts out before he can help himself, because no matter how unexpected it was, his proposal being retracted is the last thing he wants.

Harvey has the audacity to laugh at that, and Mike loves and hates him at the same time.

The thought makes him stop and shake his head in disbelief, because it should sound ridiculous, it _is_ ridiculous, and yet it rings true somehow.

They’ve known each other for such a short time. How can he love him already? Maybe he’s not in love yet, but he knows that he will be, can see himself falling as inevitably as the leaves will turn brown in the fall.

And now that Harvey has asked him to marry him, now that he knows that he is clearly not the only one who caught feelings – as inexplicable as the idea is – he doesn’t really mind it all that much anymore.

He kind of… wants it. He wants the image Harvey has painted for him, as crazy as it is. Now that it hangs between them, close enough to touch if he only reached out, all he wants to do is take it.

“I do apologize,” Harvey tells him sincerely. “This isn’t a very romantic proposal, I know that. It’s not what you deserve by far, but we’re short on time. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I can take you to Venice for our honeymoon, if you’d like. Or Paris, or wherever else you want to go.”

He takes his hand and weaves their fingers together.

“But I also want to show you Manderley. I want you to see your new home, and the city you’ll live in. You’re going to love it. London has everything New York can offer, just without the rush. I want to show you all the possibilities you’ll have there. All the things you can do, all that will be yours to command. The world is our oyster, Mike. There are no limits.”

And Mike can see it before him, as clearly as if he already said yes. He is going to work at Manderley. He will get married to the managing partner of a law firm with an international reputation. He will move to London, move into Harvey’s apartment, and it’s going to be theirs from this day until his last. He is going to leave his life behind and start over, with Harvey by his side, as his partner, fiancé, and soon enough his husband.

It’s going to happen.

Harvey smiles at him, and Mike knows. He cannot withstand him. He doesn’t even want to.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying, surprised by how easily the word leaves his lips.

“Okay?” Harvey asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll marry you. I’ll work for you. I’ll come to Manderley with you. All of it, I’m- I wanna do this.”

The grin overtaking Harvey’s face might just be the most beautiful thing Mike has ever witnessed. It’s intoxicating to see his own euphoria reflect at him, and he can’t help but reach out and pull him in to bring their lips together.

This is his fiancé, after all. He can goddamn kiss him if he wants.

Harvey smiles against his lips, and Mike draws back, suddenly aware of the other guests on the terrace who have no idea what just transpired.

Harvey seems amused by his embarrassment. “Then let’s do it,” he says, giving his hand a firm squeeze. “First things first,” he adds, leaning back in his chair, “I’m going to get you a ring.”

Mike can’t help himself, he bursts into laughter.

“If it doesn’t have an actual diamond on it, I don’t want it,” he informs him cheekily, the surrealism of their entire exchange leaving him lightheaded. Harvey chuckles.

“Duly noted.”

Mike catches his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a deep breath.

“I can’t believe this. Did we really just get engaged? Am I high right now? Did you spike this cappuccino with something?”

“I’m afraid not. This decision was entirely yours.”

“Well, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place, so I’d like to think of it as a mutually satisfactory arrangement.”

“Oh, I thought we made it clear by now that it’s highly satisfying,” Harvey remarks, smirking.

Mike rolls his eyes. “Classy.” He purses his lips. “So does that mean that I can kiss you in public now? Being your fiancé and all?”

The word feels foreign on his tongue, nothing he ever thought he would describe himself as, certainly not in regard to someone like Harvey Specter. He didn’t even know that was something he wanted, but now that he has it it’s a real challenge to contain his giddy excitement.

“As far as I’m concerned, you can kiss me whenever you like,” Harvey tells him, and Mike promptly takes advantage of that.

How thrilling, to think that there is an endless amount of these kisses in store for him now. Last night he thought he might not even get a kiss goodbye, and now he has a lifetime supply. The knowledge doesn’t take away from the feeling of Harvey’s lips on his, not at all. It’s as exhilarating and intoxicating as ever, if not more, and it feels like the beginning to this new life he never dared to hope he’d have.

As it turns out, there are more pressing matters than the ring, of course.

Despite the fact that Mike’s entire life has just taken a U-turn, nothing has actually changed yet. Mrs. Van Hopper still thinks that they’re going back to New York together. She still believes that he will keep on traveling the world with her.

“Oh, she’s gonna kill me,” Mike mutters when it hits him that he’ll have to break the news to her right now, without any preparation whatsoever.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t. I need my fiancé in one piece, after all.”

Mike buries his face in his hands, groaning. “Fiancé. Fucking hell. What am I even gonna tell her? I mean, what are we actually going to do? Should I just… stay here and go back to London with you? Or should I go to New York with her and join you later once I’ve taken care of everything?”

“That’s up to you. I don’t know how long it will take you to get your affairs in order, so you might want to start from there.”

“I mean, I basically have everything I own on me right now, so…”

“Well, then the most important thing is for you to get your visa application underway. Everything else we can take care of from home.”

“Okay,” Mike agrees despite the fact that this home is entirely strange to him, that he didn’t even know he would have it until ten minutes ago. “Then I suppose I’ll do some research on that. How long does an application usually take? Assuming my visa gets approved.”

“You’re a white man with a high-profile fiancé who’s about to start his job at a respectable law firm. There shouldn’t be any issues. It can take a few weeks, but we’ll just pay extra for priority service. We should get a decision in a few business days that way.”

“Oh. Right,” Mike says, only realizing now that he’ll have to pay for this. “It’s just- well, I don’t think I have that much money.”

“That’s alright.” Harvey smiles, brushing his cheek in gentle reassurance. “I do.”

Mike swallows. It doesn’t quite seem real to him, after spending most years of his life turning every penny over twice, that money is suddenly not an issue anymore. Harvey is apparently entirely unbothered by the idea of sharing his fortune with him – at least he doesn’t think Mike is in it for the money, then – and while Mike can’t say the same for himself, he realizes that he is going to have a generously-paying job very soon, so at least he won’t have to rely on him for long. The sweet smell of a generous, steady income already makes him dizzy just thinking about it.

“Okay, well, if you’re sure,” he agrees weakly.

“I’m not going to London right away,” Harvey carries on, oblivious to the minor existential crisis he’s going through, “so that works out well for us. I have business to tend to in Switzerland. It’ll just be a few days, but I’d like for you to come along if you want. You can have your consulate appointment from there.”

“Only if we get to try all the chocolate they have to offer,” Mike says despite the fact that he would follow him anywhere, no questions asked.

“You got yourself a deal,” Harvey agrees, nodding. Checking the time, he empties his glass and pushes his chair back.

“Mrs. Van Hopper is probably looking for you right about now. Let’s break the news to her, shall we?”

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” Mike sighs, getting up as well. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“Of course.” Harvey looks affronted. “You think I’ll get engaged to you only to abandon you at the next opportunity?”

“Well, I thought you might just be in it to cut your taxes.”

Harvey snorts, and Mike gazes at him, biting his lip to hold back his smile.

Glancing at him, Harvey lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

“Sorry, I’m just… it’s still going to take me a while to process that you actually asked me to marry you.”

“Well, take all the time you need. We’ll get to the wedding planning as soon or as late as you like. I don’t need us to get married right away. The important part is that people see I’m serious about you. As for the rest, we’ll do it whatever way you want. I’m not particular about it.”

“So you’re not the type for massive parties with every person you know on the guest list?” Mike teases.

He turns his head to look at him when he’s met with silence. The easy smile has slipped from Harvey’s lips, and he shakes his head, his lips pinched.

“You forget,” he says, “I had that kind of wedding before.”

Mike deflates. He did forget, the fact that there was someone before him slipping his mind entirely for one precious moment.

But it never slips Harvey’s. How could it, with the memory of his late wife still so fresh in his mind? With the echo of her name ringing in his ears wherever he goes, the whispers about her tragic death following him at every step?

Scottie may be gone, but with the traces she left on Harvey’s life she might as well still be here. How foolish of Mike to forget about her, to get caught up in the romance of it all when there are much more practical layers to it than just that.

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Well, I’m in no rush,” he declares, because he really isn’t, but also because he wants Harvey to marry him for the right reason – the companionship they talked about rather than the fact that it will give Mike a certain status, and right now he’s not sure which one of those was the deciding factor for his proposal.

He can take a wild guess, though.

It’s fine. They’ve got time to get to know each other, to figure out how this relationship is going to work.

“It’s probably best if we stay engaged for a while and figure everything out before we take the next step.”

Harvey nods. “Sounds sensible,” he agrees.

They reach Mrs. Van Hopper’s room faster than Mike would like. He still doesn’t know what to say to her, but there’s barely enough time to take a deep breath before Harvey lifts his hand and knocks firmly.

She rips the door open at once.

“Mike. Where were you? I was looking for you. What were you thinking, disappearing when you know that we- oh. Harvey Specter.”

“Mrs. Van Hopper,” Harvey says politely. “I’m afraid that Mike’s disappearance was entirely my fault. Do you mind if we come inside for a moment? There’s something we should talk about.”

“I- of course not,” she says, looking back and forth between them as she moves aside. “I must apologize for the mess. I’m in the middle of packing, you see.”

“I understand,” Harvey tells her. He clearly couldn’t care less. When she has closed the door, he looks at Mike. “Do you want to start?”

He decidedly does not, but he wants Harvey to think he’s a coward even less, so he takes a deep breath and ignores his sinking stomach as he announces, “I am not coming back to New York with you.”

“What?” Mrs. Van Hopper frowns. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m not going back to New York,” he repeats. “At all. I’m sorry to tell you on such short notice, but I made up my mind. I’m grateful for your generosity during our travels, but it’s time for me to start something new.”

Mrs. Van Hopper gapes at him in disbelief, still looking between them, clearly trying to figure out how Harvey plays into this.

“And whatever do you think you’re going to do now? Are you just going to stay here?”

Mike exhales deeply and shakes his head. He’s hating every second of this, but at least Harvey is there with him. It helps, even more so when he takes Mike’s hand and squeezes it in support.

“He’s coming with me,” he informs her, steadily returning her gaze. “To Manderley.”

Mike nods. “Harvey and I are in a relationship. As a matter of fact, we just got engaged. I’ll move to London with him and work at the firm there. Do what I actually wanted to do.”

She stares at him, her face a perfect display of incredulity.

He doesn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have believed himself either.

“Well, I suppose congratulations are in order,” she finally gets out.

“Thank you. I do apologize that we sprung this on you. We will pay for Mike’s ticket if it’s too late to cancel it, of course,” Harvey adds smoothly. She just nods, clearly not having the mental capacity to do anything more.

It’s over quickly. Harvey doesn’t leave her any opportunity to attack him, redirecting the conversation every time she turns to him. He never leaves him alone with her, instead staying right up until they have said their formal goodbyes.

It wasn’t as bad as he feared it would be, even though he doesn’t quite know what he expected to happen. He wonders what she thinks as they leave her without another look back. He wonders if she thinks it’s romantic, that they’re in love.

In love.

It’s still so soon. Way too soon to talk about that. Granted, it’s also too soon for an engagement, but they did say they were going to take their time with that.

And yet. Harvey never said that he was in love. He never even said that he was falling for him. Mike, yes, but him?

Harvey doesn’t strike him as the type to make rash decisions, nor as someone who would set himself up for a lifetime with someone he _isn’t_ into. No, he must feel something for him, no doubt.

Still, it would have been nice to hear it. To have him allude to his feelings at least a little while popping the question. It’s not what you’d expect a proposal to be like.

But maybe it was better that way. Original is always preferable to generic, isn’t it? It definitely wasn’t some kind of run-of-the-mill proposal by someone who was caught up in the moment, full of declarations of love and flowery language and whatnot that turns out to be nothing but bullshit later on. No, Harvey thought about this. He wanted this.

Did he think about it with Scottie? How long did he plan on asking her? Did he tell _her _what he felt for her?

_Stop it_, he tells himself. She’s gone. There’s no point in going down that rabbit hole. Harvey is with him now, and he wants to be with him or he wouldn’t have proposed.

_Don’t go there. Don’t ever, ever go there._

He tries his hardest to squash any lingering thoughts about her as he unlocks the door to his room, dropping down on the bed with a sigh.

His eyes fall on the legal book Harvey lent him on his nightstand. He planned on returning it to him this morning and forgot all about it.

Harvey never asked for it back. It can’t have meant much to him then.

Picking it up, Mike turns it over in his hands before he pushes it deep down into the farthest corner of his bag where he won’t have to think about it anymore.

There are better, more important things to focus on now. He’s about to go on the adventure of a lifetime, after all. And Scottie, no matter how much she still seems to linger everywhere, is not going to be part of that.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s early May when they finally make it to Manderley. According to Harvey, it’s the best time to be there – all the flowers in the surrounding gardens will be blooming, making the premises come alive with the low buzz of bees and the slight rustle of the wind in the leaves.

Mike listens keenly every time he talks about the firm. Then again, he listens keenly no matter what he talks about, always trying to learn more about him, to find little tidbits that will tell him something new about the man beneath the suit.

They’ve been engaged for almost a month now. Mike loved Switzerland, and so they stayed there for three weeks, exploring the country as much as they explored each other.

It was addictive, learning more about Harvey, seeing that they really did work well together, that nothing came to light that either of them considered a deal breaker, affirming Mike in his impulsive decision to get married to this enticing near-stranger.

He’s not that anymore by a long shot.

Living together, even in a hotel room, has shown them sides of each other that the stolen mornings and late nights spent together in Monaco couldn’t. Mike knows now that Harvey is particular about tidying up, that he takes the way he dresses very seriously (“First impressions matter, Mike”, which only made him wonder how he ever managed to steal Harvey’s heart, looking the way he had when they first met), that he works more and harder than he lets on and never once complains about it.

Harvey in turn now knows the true extent of Mike’s terrible eating habits (“We’re going to have to do something about that, I can’t have my fiancé suffering from malnutrition”) and is disproportionally appalled by them for someone who doesn’t even cook. He knows Mike is slow to wake in the morning and likes to hit snooze a couple of times (“You can always think of other ways to wake me up if it bothers you, you know”), that the chaos he leaves every time he goes through his suitcase doesn’t faze him in the slightest, but that he’s more than happy to clean up after himself, Harvey just needs to remind him once or twice.

In bed they are getting to know each other like the back of their own hand. The sex was great from the start, but the more time they spend exploring each other, the easier Mike recognizes the signs of Harvey’s pleasure, knowing just what it takes to make him grasp at the sheets or bite his lip to stop himself from moaning. He loves those parts, loves the taste of his skin and the smell of him, how his name sounds on his lips and his hands feel on his body. He loves the closeness and being the center of his attention when they’re between the sheets (or in the shower, or against the wall), though his favorite part is afterwards, when they’re cuddled up together, Harvey’s arms around him holding him so close that he can feel his chest rising and falling with every breath, the rhythm so familiar to Mike now that he would recognize it with his eyes closed.

There is still a lot he doesn’t know about Harvey, though. He rarely talks about himself, not in a meaningful way – the way Mike wishes he would. He only knows this part of Harvey’s life, this side of him, the aspects he chose to share so far. The rest is a closed book that Mike has yet to learn how to access.

It’s not that Harvey purposely excludes him from the other areas of his life. It’s just that he’s… selective in what he shares about them.

He will tell him about the flowers at Manderley, but not if he ever stops to smell them. He will mention his brother in the States, but never if he misses him and when they last talked. He will talk about his work, but in a way that leaves Mike guessing whether he’s enjoying it or actually considering a new career.

He knows the construct of his life, but not the details that make up the whole.

And as it turns out, that’s where the devil is.

He knew that things would inevitably change when they make it to British soil, that the honeymoon-like grace period he’s been granted will end once Harvey steps back into his role as the head of his firm.

He just didn’t think it would happen so fast.

The first 24 hours of their return are a bit of a whirlwind, the sudden plunge into real life rather jarring after the long time they spent traveling. In true English fashion it rains when they arrive in London, and it doesn’t stop until the next morning, when they make their way to the office for the first time.

Mike has barely had a chance to look at his brand-new home, never mind get settled in before he dropped down on the bed and slipped into a comatose sleep. He doesn’t feel much more rested when Harvey wakes him just a few hours later, telling him that it’s time to get ready for work. While Mike looks forward to seeing the firm and starting his job, the thought of having to face everyone still makes him queasy. Especially after barely having slept.

The consistent pouring doesn’t exactly make him feel better as they rush to meet Harvey’s driver outside the building. The short exposure to the rain is enough for the water to drag down his suit by the time he makes it into the car. Picking at the wet fabric, Mike wishes they’d had time to get him some new ones before introducing him at Manderley. Harvey promised to take him to his trusted tailor once they made it to London, but there obviously hasn’t been time for that yet. Mike hopes they’ll get to it this week, even though Harvey will probably be drowning in things he needs to take care of after his absence.

They spend the ride to the office in silence. Harvey is busy on his phone, and Mike is busy trying not to let show how sick he feels. He only looks up when Harvey puts his phone into his pocket and asks, “You alright?”

“Hm? Yeah, just tired,” he mutters, even though the thought of meeting everyone scares him shitless. Or rather the thought of everyone meeting _him_.

Harvey chuckles. “You’ll have to get used to that,” is all he says. “Manderley doesn’t follow a nine-to-five schedule. Rather the other way around.”

Before Mike can start complaining about the prospect, the driver takes them around a corner and onto a drive framed by an iron gate, allowing a perfect view of what lies ahead.

And there he sees is. Proudly towering, daunting and still, the gray walls are unmistakable.

Manderley.

“Wow,” Mike whispers despite himself.

It’s a sight to behold, and the farther the car takes them down the drive, the more he can see. Harvey didn’t promise too much. Everywhere he looks a different colorful array of flowers catches his eyes, and he briefly wonders how many people Manderley employs to take care of its gardens, because that in itself must require a skilled team.

The car stops, and he gets out in a daze, tearing his eyes from the gardens to blink up at the stony grey structure, for a moment finding himself paralyzed by the sheer size of it.

It’s so much bigger than he expected, and standing before it he feels very small all of a sudden.

The pictures he saw didn’t do it justice. It’s one of those things you have to see to really comprehend, and he’s still struggling to when Harvey steps beside him, buttoning his jacket.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?”

Mike glances at him, but his face betrays no more than the tone of his voice does, no pride shining through, nothing.

“It is,” he agrees.

Harvey puts a hand on the small of his back, gently reminding him that it’s time to go. “Ready?”

Absolutely not.

“Sure,” he confirms and returns his smile, albeit weakly. It slips from his face as soon as he turns away to hold the door open for him.

“First, let me introduce you to Donna,” Harvey says as they head inside, nodding at the people they pass on the way. Their eyes fall on him afterwards without fail, and Mike tries his hardest not to look as uncomfortable as he feels.

“She’s your secretary, right?” he asks to distract himself, even though he remembers everything he told him.

“She is, though she is arguably much more than that, considering the amount of things she does around here to keep the show running. She’s one of the main reasons things haven’t gone to shit in my absence, which, I can assure you, takes some coordination.”

They reach the second floor, rounding a corner before they stop at a desk with a ginger woman typing away on her computer. That must be her, then. She finishes whatever she’s doing before she looks up, not even glancing at Harvey before she gives him an expectant look.

Clearing his throat, Mike steps forward.

“Hi. I’m Mike. Mike Ross. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Mike Ross,” she repeats, looking at Harvey. “So this is him.”

“Oh, you’re American too?” Mike realizes in surprise. She looks back at him and lifts an eyebrow.

“I am many things, Mike Ross. Not easily impressed is one of them. Neither is Harvey, by the way, so there must be something about you that caught his attention.”

She tilts her head, the look she gives him so piercing that he might as well have stood before her naked. Refusing to be intimidated, he straightens his shoulders and raises his chin defiantly. He’s almost completely sure that this is a test, and he’ll be damned if he fails it.

“I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t just my good looks, no. There’s more to me than that, though I _will_ admit that it’s a big plus.”

Fake it till you make it seems to be the right approach. Donna snorts, her lips pulling into a smile as she turns to Harvey and says, “Cute. I like him.”

Mike exhales quietly at the verdict.

Harvey rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Now that you’ve put him through the mill enough, I want you to-“

“Get Mike the paperwork he needs to sign, find Rachel, and provide you with a summary of what you missed while you were off on your love vacation? Consider it done.”

Harvey’s shoulders relax as his lips curve into a smile. “I missed having you around, Donna.”

“Of course you did. How you manage without me, I have no idea.”

He huffs. “Don’t push it.”

She just grins. Turning to Mike, she says, “It was nice meeting you as well, Mike. Welcome to Manderley. If there’s anything you need, just ask. Though you should know that I _will_ make fun of you if it’s a ridiculous request.”

“Noted. And thank you, I appreciate it.”

Harvey puts a hand on his shoulder, nodding down the hall. “Alright, let’s introduce you to the rest.”

Mike takes a deep breath. “Right. Let’s.”

It’s worse than he imagined.

Everyone wants to meet him. Everyone. He’s not just the new guy at the office holding a new position that was specifically designed for him. He’s the man who managed to steal Harvey Specter’s broken heart and mend it in a matter of weeks, and people are desperate to get a look at him, no doubt forming their own opinion on whether he’s worthy or not within seconds.

It’s distinctly uncomfortable. Mike feels like everyone has a very specific image of what they imagined Harvey’s new love interest to be like, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t meet any of their expectations. How could he? He’s just a twenty-something kid with no fancy education or achievements, not exactly ugly but certainly not the easiest on the eyes either. He tries not to let his discomfort show, but all his movements feel stilted, his smiles too artificial, his responses flat when he’s asked something.

Now he understands what animals at the zoo feel like. Although at least they don’t have to talk to the people who stare at them.

He goes through names and faces without any of them consciously registering, glad that his memory will save him the horror of having to make the rounds and ask everyone who they are again later on.

He suppresses a sigh of relief when Harvey finally hands him off to someone he introduces as Rachel Zane, who will oversee his initial training and help with any questions whenever Harvey is busy.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he says, and Mike nods weakly, watching him go with a sinking sensation in his stomach. He didn’t think he was going to be by his side every minute of every day, but being left on his own so soon is still daunting.

Well, he’s not entirely on his own.

“It’s good to meet you, Mike,” Rachel says, catching his attention. She’s pretty, like Donna and seemingly every person he has met today, and he briefly wonders if good looks are a requirement to get hired at Manderley – a thought that is equally ridiculous and intimidating.

“Likewise,” he tells her, smiling a little. “Sorry about all the extra work this is probably going to give you.”

She just waves her hand. “It’s my job to take care of whatever comes up here and keep the firm running. Besides, I’m the best person to brief you on everything. I only recently finished law school, and before that I was a paralegal here, so I know every part of your new job inside and out.”

“That’s good, because I don’t,” Mike admits with a small laugh.

“Don’t worry, Harvey sent me an overview that covers the gist of it. You’re more or less going to have the position of an intern. You’ll do everything paralegals do while also working intensively on cases beyond that, so you’ll be prepared for law school if you decide to go.”

“Right,” Mike mutters. He still hasn’t made up his mind, but there’s time for that. For now he just needs to figure out how to do the job he already has. Having wasted enough time on introductions, he sits down at the desk that’s been declared his in the bullpen and dives headfirst into his work.

There’s a lot of material he needs to go through before he can start his actual job, and he gladly immerses himself in the reading, only realizing that it’s time for lunch when Rachel taps his shoulder and asks if he’s not going to eat.

She doesn’t outright ask him to come along and he feels stupid inviting himself, so he claims having a date with Harvey and, not knowing what else to do, promptly goes to find him.

Harvey briefly looks up when he knocks on the door to his office, signing him inside before he returns his attention to the file before him.

“I’ll be done with this in a minute,” he mutters, not looking up.

Assuming that means he’s supposed to wait, Mike takes a seat on the sofa in the corner, folding his hands together and looking around quietly.

He only glanced in here before, and a closer inspection makes it obvious why this is the room Harvey chose for himself. It’s easily the biggest office in the building. The view is amazing, capturing a part of the gardens so perfectly that it looks like there is nothing but nature around them. The room itself is spacious, clean and meticulously decorated – not a single piece of furniture more than there needs to be, the light brown tones of the wood blending together to create a pleasant visual symphony. And Harvey fits into this room like he was designed to be there.

Mike turns his attention to him, watching him work in silence. His face is a perfect display of concentration. His eyes are narrowed, moving across the page rapidly, and his shoulders are straight and tense in a ridiculously attractive way. His entire stance radiates so much authority and confidence, even now, that it’s hard to look away.

It’s fascinating and unsettling at the same time.

Because this is routine for him. This is his life. He probably always looks like this when he works, would consider nothing about this moment outstanding. And it’s not, is it? This is normal. He looks like he belongs here because he does. The only thing that’s out of place is Mike.

It strikes him once again how little he knows of Harvey’s life at Manderley. Of what it actually looks like, day after day. Who’s part of it, what cases he works, who his clients are. He doesn’t know anything about the mails he writes, the bills he pays. The people he commands, everyone who works with him, spends so much time here by his side, and probably knows him that much better than Mike does.

He did get to know him a little more these past few weeks, and he knows it’s a process, that he will keep learning who he is as they go along.

But it still stings to be reminded that he has a whole other life here of which Mike knows… nothing. Nothing of real importance, that is.

He looks up when Harvey shuts the file, ripping him from his thoughts before they can start spiraling.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“It’s fine,” Mike hurries to say, sitting up with a smile that he hopes looks more reassuring than it feels. “Don’t worry about it. You must be really busy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Harvey mutters, then shakes himself. “Anyway. How’s your first day going?”

“It’s great,” he says at once, and while he doesn’t exactly _feel_ great yet, things are definitely going well. “My laptop is all set up, I’ve been reading up on our biggest clients and the cases we’re currently handling, and Rachel told me where to best get coffee around here because apparently that’s the one thing we can’t do right.”

“Good.” Harvey nods. “She’s not wrong about the coffee. It’s smart to figure out where to get yours fast. You’re going to need it.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I have complete faith in you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Before Mike can wonder what exactly he means by _here_, Harvey continues, “I want you to just stick to Rachel for a while. She’s going to tell you what tasks to do and where you’re needed until I assign you some cases that I want you to work on.”

“Okay, sure.” Hopefully, Mike asks, “Will I do any cases with you?”

“Definitely. I’m not gonna lie to you, I can’t bring you in on all of them and I wouldn’t want to either. I want to be able to focus on you and your training when we work together, so the time needs to be limited. Besides, I think it’ll be beneficial for you to work with different lawyers so you can see some other approaches.”

Mike nods. “Alright. Got it.”

It makes sense, of course, but while he does want to learn as much as he can, part of him still hopes that he’ll get to work with Harvey as often as possible. Not just because he wants to spend time with him, but because it will give him a chance to get a glimpse of this life he’s leading here, of becoming part of it too.

He will find his place in time. He only just got here, after all.

“Are you going to grab something to eat?” Mike asks, raising his shoulders. “We could go somewhere together?”

“Sorry, but I’ll have to skip lunch today. We’ll talk when we got home, alright?”

“Okay. Sounds great.”

Mike returns the smile Harvey shoots him despite the disappointment gnawing at him. “What are you working on?” he then wants to know.

“It’s a copyright infringement,” Harvey explains and sighs. “We’ve been trying to settle for ages, but we’re not getting anywhere.”

“Why haven’t you just taken it to court?”

“Because you don’t _just_ go to court.” Harvey looks up. “Let this be your first lesson. If at all possible, you should avoid court at all costs. Don’t go there unless you absolutely have to. You might as well flip a coin and hope it lands in your favor.”

“That… makes sense, I just would have thought you enjoy taking a risk.”

“I do, but once you go to trial there are too many variables you can’t control. The odds of convincing all the members of the jury you need to are pretty much always against you. Taking a risk is one thing. Gambling with your client is another.”

“Mike?”

Looking up, he finds Rachel leaning into the office.

“Sorry to interrupt. I got the documents you were asking for earlier. Do you want me to bring them here?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just come with you and fetch them myself. I should get back to work anyway.”

“As should I,” Harvey says. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to head home, but don’t expect it to be before eight. I wanna get a head start on this pile on my desk.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough things to do. Just let me know when you’re done.”

Harvey nods, eyes already on his files again. Mike takes one last look at him before hurrying after Rachel, letting out a sigh.

She glances at him. “He’s busy, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, if I had an office like that I’d stay in there and work all day too,” he jokes.

She nods. “It’s not bad, right? He has the nicest office in the entire building. Well.” She drops her eyes. “One of them.”

“Who has a nicer office than Harvey?” Mike asks doubtfully.

She hesitates before she asks, “You see this one?”

She turns back to nod at the door opposite Harvey’s. It’s closed, with no way to see inside, but it clearly mirrors the other side of the hallway.

“It was hers,” Rachel explains before he can ask. The way her voice drops makes him feel like she’s letting him in on some dark secret he’s not supposed to know. Like saying her name holds too much power to do it at a regular volume. “Scottie’s. No one’s using it now, obviously, we’re not allowed to go in, but… I remember it being really nice too.”

Mike swallows. “Right.”

He has no idea what to say to that, and Rachel doesn’t seem to know either, letting him hang after his own thoughts. The rest of the walk is spent in silence.

It’s a long way to his place, he realizes once they finally make it there. It’s not even in an office, just some random desk in the bullpen amidst dozens of others. It’s so far away that he can’t even see Harvey’s office from here.

*

Kneeling over his suitcase, Mike lets out a deep breath.

He knew he shouldn’t have left the unpacking for later. He’s just as tired as he was when they got home from the airport last night, if not more, but he can’t leave it like this for another night. Harvey is going to kill him if he stops picking up after himself on the first day already, and there’s stuff he needs from the suitcase anyway. Besides, he should figure out where to put all his belongings if he wants to make this space his.

He’s never been too good at that, taking up a room with his presence or his things. Maybe because he never felt like he really belonged anywhere. Harvey is good at it, of course. Great, even.

Scottie apparently was, too. So much so that even after her death Harvey is unable to give her space to somebody else.

Mike closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose.

No wonder he just can’t seem to focus. He’s been assaulted with countless pieces of information today, and yet it’s that one his thoughts get stuck on.

It’s not the reminder of Scottie’s existence that’s eating at him. It’s Rachel’s choice of words he can’t stop thinking about.

_No one is using it now, obviously. We’re not allowed to go in._

So it’s still technically her office. No one else can take it. But why would Harvey feel the need to impose a ban in the first place? Who would want to go into a dead woman’s office if he never cleared it out? He’s almost treating the room like sacred ground, like a temple to his late wife that no one must enter but him.

Does he ever?

Mike grimaces, trying to shake the thought. He doesn’t even want to know how often Harvey goes in there, how much time he spends in that room trying to feel close to her, to hold on to her memory.

There are more important things to think about. Much less destructive ones, too.

He grabs a few pairs of socks from his suitcase and gets back to his feet. Picking a drawer at random, he stuffs them inside, then goes back for the rest.

His mind still boggles at the idea of having an entire room just for his clothes. Harvey told him he could put all his things in there, but since he doesn’t have many belongings beyond his apparel, it’s basically just a massive wardrobe.

“You can get a desk for it as well if it makes you feel better, but I don’t know what you’d be doing in the actual study then,” Harvey said in response to his disbelief, which didn’t exactly help the feeling. The sheer size of Harvey’s condo in general is just… too much.

Well, _their_ condo now. Still doesn’t seem quite real.

Stuffing the rest of his underwear into the drawer, Mike slows down as a thought crosses his mind. He didn’t question the room Harvey offered him last night, too tired to give much of a shit about anything. But after what Rachel told him today, he can’t help but wonder.

Was this hers before too? They must have lived here together, Harvey and her. Unless he moved after she died, which doesn’t seem to be the case. And since Harvey isn’t using this room right now, it probably means she did. Or was this a sort of guest room before Mike came here?

He doesn’t know if that would make him feel better.

_Stop it_, he chastises himself, shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts. No one said that _he’s_ a guest here, even if that’s who this room was meant for. If he feels that way, it’s nobody’s fault but his own. Certainly not Harvey’s.

Still. Part of him just wants to _know_.

His eyes roam the furniture, looking for signs, anything that will hint at Scottie’s presence in this room, but he finds nothing. Which is not surprising. He doesn’t even really know what he’s looking for.

All of this is still so strange and foreign to him.

He took a quick look around before, but there wasn’t any time to really familiarize himself with the place. He’s been to the bathroom, and the bedroom, of course – which, it dawns on him, means he’s already slept in Scottie’s bed without realizing.

It didn’t even cross his mind last night when he lay down and promptly passed out. He slept in her bed. They are going to get into her bed together every night, sleep there, cuddle there, have sex there, and for every memory they make, Harvey will have one of Scottie and him to match it. A second life that Mike will never know about.

How will he ever know if it compares to this one? If it even comes close?

“How are you holding up?”

Mike startles, looking up to find Harvey in the doorway, watching him with a small smile.

“Great.” He clears his throat, nodding at his suitcase. “I’ll be done with this by tonight for sure.”

“Sounds good. Are you finding a place for everything?”

Mike huffs out a laugh. “Harvey, this room alone is more spacious than any apartment I’ve lived in before. You could fit three times the amount of my clothes in here, if not more.”

“Well, once we get you some proper suits made you’ll need the space.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you think we can squeeze an appointment in this week? I’d go by myself, but I figure your taste is better than mine, so…”

“I’ll go with you,” Harvey assures him. “Thursday should work. We can go before we head to the office or extend lunch a little, whatever’s best.”

“Cool. I look forward to it.”

Harvey smiles, tilting his head. “What do you say? Wanna leave the rest of that suitcase for later and let me give you a real tour?”

“Sure, if you have nothing else to do?”

“Don’t be silly.” Harvey waves his hand. “I want you to know your way around so you can start feeling at home here.”

Mike blinks up at him, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Well, in that case,” he says, holding out his hands to let Harvey pull him to his feet, “lead the way.”

He smiles before he turns around and pulls him along.

“You’ve been to the bedroom, of course. Since all your clothes are in the adjacent room you should be fine, but if you need to move anything around in there, or the bathroom, we’ll make space for you.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Though if we’re being real, especially about the bathroom, I don’t have half as many products as you do, so... I’ll be fine with a drawer or two.” He shakes his head, muttering to himself, “I don’t even know what you use it all for.”

“Don’t limit yourself. Things can always change. In fact, I encourage you to strive for it.”

“Are you saying that I’m unkempt?”

“Not in the slightest. No fiancé of mine could ever be described as that, believe me.”

Oh, he has no doubt about it.

“This,” Harvey continues, holding out a hand, “is the living room. Not a very accurate description though, considering that I’m almost never in here.”

“Oh? So where do you spend your nights when you’re all done with work? Or does that just… never happen?”

Harvey chuckles.

“In the study, actually. And I can assure you, it happens.”

He steps behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. The corner of Mike’s mouth lifts as he nuzzles his neck, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin.

“I insist on it, especially now that I’ll have you waiting here for me. I do so look forward to spending some alone time with you,” he murmurs, and Mike bites his lip, turning around in his embrace to face him.

“Yeah? Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“I can think of a thing or two. Maybe the one we did on our first night? Or the one we did in Geneva…”

“Mhh, yeah. Wait.” He narrows his eyes. “Which one?”

Harvey chuckles. “All of them, as far as I’m concerned. As long as I get you out of those clothes. And not just because they’re atrocious.”

Mike snorts, his breath hitching when Harvey pulls him closer and brushes his lips along his jaw.

“I- I think you actually like my clothes, if only because you can make fun of them,” he gets out.

“No comment,” Harvey murmurs, kissing a trail down to his neck. Mike exhales slowly when he nuzzles the sensitive skin.

“Going back to the things you had in mind, do you… wanna elaborate on that?”

“Gladly. I have a lot to say.”

Mike opens his mouth to reply, but before he can he’s interrupted by the treacherous rumble of his stomach.

Harvey draws back, lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

“However, it seems you have other plans.”

“Lunch was a while ago, okay?” Mike defends himself, pulling him back in. “I still wanna hear about your ideas.”

“You will. But you should eat something before we get to that. I want you to have your full strength.”

“Because I’ll need it?”

Harvey just smirks.

“What are you in the mood for? For dinner,” he clarifies at his expression, rolling his eyes fondly. He kisses Mike, happy to linger when he reciprocates before pulling back. “I was thinking Chinese. There’s a great place down the street, but we can have it delivered.”

“Sounds good,” Mike agrees, mostly because he would eat just about anything right now, and also because the sooner they get the food question out of the way, the sooner they can move on to the part that comes afterwards.

“Alright. But before that, let me show you the rest.”

Mike nods, and he takes his hand to lead him to the next room.

“This is the study. We can move a second desk in here if you want, or you can put one in your room if you’d rather have some space for yourself. Like I said, I don’t just use this room for work.” He nods towards the shelves. “I keep my books here, and the other half of my record collection that isn’t at the office. If you want to move any of your things in here, we can make more space as necessary.”

“Well, I did give away most of my books before I left New York, but I might just take you up on that once I inevitably start a new collection.”

“Just let me know,” Harvey agrees with a nod. “Also, it’s probably getting too warm soon, but we should have a few more cool nights ahead. If you ever wanna make use of the fireplace…”

“Sounds cozy. I’d love to.”

“It is.” Harvey smiles. “It’s especially nice in the winter. It gets cold enough to snow here, but not so freezing that you can’t go outside. And London is beautiful around Christmas, of course, but I think you’ll like the smaller towns around here even more. I’ll have to take you to some of their Christmas markets. The mulled wine, the candy, the smell of cinnamon in the air…”

It sounds wonderful when he puts it like that, and not just because of the markets. It makes Mike yearn for those days, for the happiness Harvey already seems to know they will get from it.

Keeping those thoughts to himself, he merely lifts an eyebrow and teases, “So you like Christmas, huh?”

Harvey looks amused. “I’m not exactly a fanatic, but I do enjoy parts of it. Why? Did you take me for the Grinch?”

“No, I just… yeah, kind of,” he admits. “It just doesn’t seem like something you’d be into, you know? The exploitation of the holiday, the excessive cheer, the Christianity…”

“Well, it’s not about religion for me. I just take it as a reminder to be with those I care about. Even though that’s quite the challenge with the hours we all work.”

“Well, we’ll make the time,” Mike promises, grinning. “Now that I know you’re a huge Christmas nerd and all.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “Funny.”

“It’s the same for me though. What I like about the holidays. I kind of… assumed that I wouldn’t have that anymore, now that Grammy’s gone. I’m glad I was wrong about that.”

It still stings to think about her, to be reminded that they’ll never spend any time together again, but the hurt is lessened by the comfort of having someone else by his side.

Harvey smiles. “We’ll make our own traditions,” he promises. “It won’t be the same, but it’ll still be good. And sometimes something new isn’t the worst thing.”

His voice sounds off on the last part, and when Mike searches his face he finds that faraway look in his eyes that he sometimes gets and never explains. He wonders where he goes when that happens, where his thoughts must have taken him just now, but it’s gone before he knows it, all traces disappearing so quickly that he’s not sure if they were there at all.

“However,” Harvey says, the smile firmly back in place as he looks at him, “we have a whole summer ahead of us before that.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I hate the heat.”

“Don’t worry, it’s easier to endure here than in New York. Less humid.”

“Ah, thank god. I knew this move was the right decision.”

Harvey chuckles. He turns around, and Mike follows him into the next room to continue their tour. He nods along as Harvey shows him everything, acknowledging all the information he offers.

Acknowledging the information he doesn’t offer, too.

There’s one more room at the end of the hall. Judging by the set-up of the apartment and the other rooms he’s seen it must be quite spacious. But the door is closed, and Harvey shows no signs of even admitting to its existence.

He waits until the very last moment of his tour to ask, “What’s in there?”

He watches Harvey closely, but his face betrays nothing.

“That’s just storage. Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing in there for you.”

He turns around and says over his shoulder, “Come on, let me show you how the coffee machine works. You can give it a try in the morning.”

Mike trails after him with one last glance at the door, doing his best to shake the curiosity nagging him.

Of course he doesn’t succeed.

“Let’s order dinner,” Harvey suggests, taking out his phone. “The menu is on the fridge if you want to take a look.”

Mike skims the selection, then tells him what he wants.

“And extra spring rolls,” he adds. “Always get extra spring rolls.”

Harvey chuckles, but asks the person on the phone for another serving.

“They’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” he announces when he hangs up.

“That’s fast.”

“Well, it does pay off to tip well.”

“Of course you wouldn’t tip well just out of the goodness of your heart,” Mike teases.

“Well, since my fiancé won’t have to starve now due to my generosity, I think we can still consider this a good deed.”

“As long as I’m the recipient of the benefits, I’m not complaining.”

The food smells amazing when it arrives, and Mike is happy to dig in and find out that it tastes even better, ignoring Harvey’s clear amusement at his enthusiasm.

“You know, on my first day at Manderley, I had the exact same thing for dinner.”

“Really?”

Harvey nods. “Less spring rolls, obviously, and they didn’t have the shrimp dumplings on the menu back then, but it was the same place. I’ve been a regular ever since.”

You wouldn’t know it looking at him, but his ego is probably big enough without Mike openly lusting after him at any given moment, so he just remarks, “Well, I think it’s promising that I’m following in your footsteps. Hopefully in other aspects too.”

“You will. I have no doubts about it.”

“Yeah, I’ll show everyone,” Mike agrees dryly, not really believing it but unwilling to let it show in front of Harvey, especially when he displays so much confidence in him. “Once I actually get to know people, that is.”

“You will, in due time.” He bats Mike’s hand away when he tries to take a spring roll from his plate, then asks, “What did you think of everyone?”

“They were nice,” Mike says after short consideration. “Everyone’s been pretty welcoming, which… definitely made things easier.”

It’s probably more because they’re scared of Harvey than their respect for Mike, but he’ll take it.

“And Rachel is great. I’m glad you made her my go-to person. She really seems to know her stuff.”

Harvey nods. “I thought you would get along. She’s one of our best, and I don’t say that lightly. You can learn a lot from her.”

“Can’t wait.” Mike manages to steal a spring roll from him this time, earning himself a glare that he can’t quite take seriously.

“How come there are so many Americans working at Manderley?” he wonders.

“There aren’t actually that many. You just happened to meet most of them in one day. You’re there because of me, obviously. Donna’s family moved here when she was younger, and Rachel left the States to work here instead because of her father. Funnily enough, she’s from New York as well.”

“Oh, really? What’s the deal with her father?”

“He’s a well-known lawyer. Has his own firm back in New York. She told me when I interviewed her that she didn’t want to build her career on his legacy. She wanted to make it because of her skills, not because of who her father is. Everyone in and outside of New York knew him, so she decided to go somewhere no one had ever heard of Robert Zane. Well, I had, but I didn’t hire her for her name.”

“Wow.” Mike picks up another spring roll. “That’s pretty admirable.”

“It is. It was our luck, really. She’s invaluable to the firm.”

Someone else for Mike to try and follow in their footsteps, then.

It’s only after dinner, when his stomach is pleasantly full and Harvey is putting away their dishes that he realizes he didn’t think about Scottie once while they ate, that the distant feeling of being somewhere he doesn’t belong receded until he didn’t even notice it anymore.

Harvey glances at the thermostat before he returns to Mike, who has spread out on the sofa with a hand on his belly.

“It’s cooled down a little,” he remarks. “Are you cold?”

“A little chilly, maybe,” he agrees.

“Then how do you feel about moving to the study and making use of the fireplace while we still can?”

Mike sits up. “Do you even have to ask?”

Harvey gets the fireplace going in no time, then grabs a folder while Mike watches the flames grow. He looks up when Harvey sits down in one of the armchairs, smiling at him before he immerses himself in whatever case he’s working on.

Mike heads to his room where he left one of the few books he brought with him, taking the chair opposite Harvey’s upon his return. They are slightly tilted towards each other, allowing him a perfect view of Harvey’s features without being too obvious about looking at him.

He’s beautiful like this. He always is, of course. It’s one of the first things he noticed about him, how good he looks, but this is something else entirely. The flames cast a warm golden light on his skin, moving in a never-ending dance, the play between shadow and illumination so enticing that it’s impossible to look away.

It’s rather appropriate, or so he thinks. There are parts of Harvey that he sees so clearly, and then there are parts he can’t even begin to guess at, hidden away somewhere entirely out of his reach.

It’s not that he can’t see them that is worst. It’s not knowing if he ever will.

It’s stupid. They are only just getting to know each other. There’s a lot Harvey doesn’t know about him too.

Mike would tell him if he asked, though. He doesn’t know if Harvey would do the same. He could find out, of course, but he’s quite scared of the answer.

A shiver runs down his spine, and he takes a steady breath, reminding himself not to get lost in _what ifs_. This is here. This is now, and it’s good. It’s all that matters.

Harvey continues reading his file, oblivious to his musings, writing something down every once in a while, his lips moving along silently to whatever he’s thinking.

Mike notices how he leans against the backrest as he works, still retaining his posture even as he relaxes, and tries to mirror him in an attempt to achieve the same effect.

He’s fairly certain it’s not working, and he returns his attention to his book with an inaudible sigh.

He wonders when he will stop feeling so inadequate in his presence, when the novelty of the fireplace and the fancy armchairs and the spacious apartment will wear off. When he won’t feel like a stranger in his own home anymore.

It’s probably natural. He just got here. Everything is still new and very unfamiliar, so of course he’s not used to it yet. He will in due time. He’s almost sure of it.

He just hopes it’s sooner rather than later.

*

The other side of the bed is empty when Mike wakes up. He blinks, checking his phone in concern, but he didn’t sleep through the alarm. It’s barely six yet.

Rubbing his eyes, he gets out of bed and, following the scent of coffee, pads into the kitchen. He finds Harvey at the counter with his back to him, a half-full steaming mug in front of him as he types something on his phone.

“I thought I was supposed to make coffee today.”

Harvey turns around, smiling when he sees him. “Good morning. You were, but duty calls, so I had to do it myself.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really. It will be if I don’t take care of it right away, though. Which is why I’ll be heading to the office in a few minutes.”

“Oh. You don’t have time for a cup of coffee together?”

He was rather hoping for some cuddles in bed before they got ready, if not more, but he’ll take anything he can get.

Harvey just shakes his head.

“I don’t, I’m afraid. I don’t want to leave this matter unattended longer than I absolutely have to.”

“Right. No, I get it.”

“Another time,” Harvey promises, picking up his mug to down the rest of his coffee. Mike winces; it must be way too hot, but Harvey doesn’t even flinch. He probably does this every morning when a crisis arises. “I do hope I didn’t wake you,” he says as he puts it in the sink.

“I wish you had,” Mike mutters, and Harvey chuckles, putting a hand on his shoulder as he kisses his forehead.

“I need to go. I’ll send the car to pick you up at the regular time. You could go back to sleep for a while,” he suggests. “It’s still early.”

This is not how Mike imagined their mornings to go, with him in bed by himself and Harvey already on his way to the office, but he nods anyway. Complaining about it won’t change anything, after all.

“I might, yeah,” he says despite having no intention of doing so.

Harvey flashes him a smile before he gathers his things.

“I’ll see you later,” he calls over his shoulder, and Mike attempts a smile too, not bothering to keep it up once the door falls shut.

It’s eerily quiet now that Harvey is gone. It feels like the whole world is still asleep, and he should be too, but he doesn’t feel like going back to bed now. It holds no appeal without Harvey in it.

He takes his used mug out of the sink and, without rinsing it, uses it to make himself some coffee too. It’s a ridiculous way of feeling closer to Harvey, but there is no one here to judge him for it, and anyway. This is his own damn house. He can do whatever he likes.

He shakes his head as his eyes trail over the furniture. All this really is his now, isn’t it? How insane is that?

Apart from the short tour last night, he hasn’t really had the chance to explore the place. And even that was incomplete, he remembers when the closed door crosses his mind.

_We’re not allowed to go in._

He shakes his head at the echo of Rachel’s voice, but the memory persists.

Harvey never said that he wasn’t allowed to open that door.

Mike bites his lip. He hesitates, then walks down the hall and, before he can change his mind, reaches for the handle to twist it.

It’s locked.

Of course it is.

It stings, even though he knows full well that it’s not about him, that the room was probably locked before he got here. And even if it wasn’t, it’s well within Harvey’s rights to keep it closed. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust Mike.

No matter how much it feels that way.

It’s probably just messy. Or there’s nothing in there. Or it’s things he’s been meaning to give away and hasn’t yet.

Whatever. Mike isn’t going to obsess about a locked door. So what if he can’t get in? So what if Harvey wants to keep him from seeing what’s in there, even though he said he wants him to feel at home here and told him that the space was theirs now, which means he _should_ be able to go wherever he wants?

It doesn’t matter.

He can still explore the other rooms in more detail, and since the locked door left him quite unsatisfied Mike decides to do just that. The study seems like a good place to start, all the books and records Harvey keeps there offering hints of the past Mike has yet to uncover. If Harvey doesn’t tell him about it, maybe his belongings will.

Walking up to the shelves, Mike can’t help but admire the collection Harvey is cultivating, considering how much time he spends on work and how little is left to be idle and read just for the sake of it. Assuming he has read all those books, of course. Taking a closer look, Mike can see thin cracks on almost every spine.

Not just decoration then.

The titles are exactly what he expected – there are classic works from just about any era and genre, though the lack of philosophical literature indicates where his interests _don’t_ lie, a valuable piece of information that Mike files away for later.

There’s Harper Lee, both To Kill A Mockingbird and Go Set A Watchman, which Mike himself hasn’t read yet, the Brontë sisters, Fitzgerald, Mary Shelley, and several titles by George Orwell.

The corner of his mouth lifts when he stumbles over a bunch of Jane Austen books. Seems like Harvey has a thing for Pride and Prejudice. Enough to own two different editions, at any rate.

“Not a romantic, my ass,” Mike murmurs.

He doesn’t just discover old classics. There are modern books too, Life of Pi, all three parts of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the Da Vinci Code, a biography of William Shatner – he clearly wasn’t joking about being a Star Trek fan – and even Harry Potter, in addition to a multitude of legal textbooks. Mike skims the titles of those briefly, already half-turned away when he halts and looks back.

The book that caught his eye is smaller than the rest, with no letters on its spine. Pulling it out, he realizes that it’s a notebook. It’s clearly used, and Mike, his curiosity awoken, only hesitates briefly before he opens it.

He regrets the decision instantly.

Whatever secret of his he was hoping to discover in here, he won’t find it.

Because this is not Harvey’s notebook. 

It’s Scottie’s.

He recognizes her handwriting immediately, the shape of the letters burnt into his memory forever. He doesn’t want to, but can’t stop himself from looking, turning the pages, the need to see what she wrote down outweighing his apprehension.

These are case notes he’s looking at, he realizes quickly. She must have used this book to organize her thoughts a lot, judging by the hasty scribbles, almost unrecognizable at times. He’s lacking the necessary context to really follow what’s going on, but even so it’s evident that she had good ideas, many of them, and one more innovative than the other. The undeniable proof of her brilliance is sickening.

It seems like Harvey has a type.

Fighting down the wave of nausea welling up in him, he shuts the book and puts it back. His head is spinning as he stares at its inconspicuous spine, trying to fight the sudden sickness. Where else is she hiding? How much more of her is left here, in this house that’s supposed to be his now?

He needs to find out, needs to know if he ever wants to stop thinking about it, and so he steps closer to the shelf and pulls out book after book, looking for any sign of her he can find. Most of them don’t contain any.

Some do.

_To Dana – we love you. Your mom and dad_. A scribbled note beneath the title of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. A little doodle on the side of a textbook with her initials next to it. Random notes in the handwriting he recognizes as hers.

The more Mike finds, the stronger the urge to continue his search becomes.

He stops at Pride and Prejudice, the two books side by side suddenly less endearing and more suspicious, then pulls out both of them.

The plain one doesn’t have a name inside. The old, limited edition does. And it’s not Harvey’s.

His stomach sinks the more bits and pieces he discovers, little tidbits of a puzzle that, together, create a frighteningly large image of this woman Mike never met and yet sees before him clear as day when he closes his eyes.

He stops short when it starts overwhelming him, pressing his hand against his stomach in a weak attempt to keep the nausea at bay. He’s appalled, absolutely horrified by the realization that there’s a good reason he doesn’t feel at home here. Because this is still _her_ place. He is nothing but a guest in a dead woman’s house, where he has left no imprints, no lasting impressions, unlike Scottie, who has done so to the point where they outlived her, exist even when she herself is gone, making it clear to everyone who really belongs here.

And he was foolish enough to believe that it could be him. That Harvey and he could move forward together without the past catching up with them.

He doesn’t know how to even fight it. It’s not like he can just take a bag, throw all her things in there and be done with it.

Because there must be a reason Harvey kept them here, and that won’t disappear even if her belongings do. Mike cannot rid Harvey of his past, of the memories he will never be part of, that will only get more beautiful in time, softened by the years gone by and the romanticizing of a grieving widower longing for his first true love, her perceived perfection immortalized in his mind’s forgiving eye.

Mike can’t compete with that.

The reality of his situation catches up with him as the mess he made registers. He blinks at the books scattered around the room, moving to pick them up and put them back on autopilot. He doesn’t want to have to explain to Harvey how they ended up on the floor.

He doesn’t want him to think about her even more. He doesn’t even want to say her name.

He gathers the books as fast as he can, just wanting to get out of there. With every one he touches, he can almost feel her hands stroking the covers, turning the pages, gliding over the paper as she wrote something on it, reminding him that she might be gone, but she’s everywhere. And Mike has no idea how he can make himself a home here, how he and Harvey can even try to make themselves one together, when the memory of her is still lurking behind every corner.


	4. Chapter 4

“No, Lucy, you can’t cite Orwell v. Castor for this. I can see why you want to, but it’s the lazy choice, not the right one, and if you show this to Harvey, he might fire you on the spot. You need to dig deeper.”

The woman’s shoulders slump as she takes the folder back from Rachel. “I don’t even know where to start looking,” she mutters. “There’s so much.”

“Welcome to your job. It’s what you do. You keep searching until you find something that works.” Already returning her focus to her file, Rachel adds, “Try Baker v. Waldorf.”

“Thanks,” Lucy says, offering a grateful smile before she turns to leave. Mike looks after her, then regards Rachel curiously.

“You really take care of everything around here, don’t you?”

Rachel just shrugs.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No. They only ask me to do things because I’m good at them.”

It should sound arrogant, but it doesn’t. It’s a fact, one that Mike knows to be true despite still being new here.

It’s also pretty fascinating.

“Didn’t you only just graduate? Because it honestly feels like you run this place.”

“It doesn’t just feel that way, Mike.” She looks up, lifting an eyebrow. “I may not be in charge on paper, but you can ask anyone. I am.”

“That much is obvious,” Mike mutters, thinking of the amount of people who knocked on the door to ask for advice since he came into her office just this morning. “How come, though? I mean, obviously you’re good, but people don’t usually recognize and reward that in someone our age.”

“I know. They did, though.” She bites her lip. “Harvey and Scottie, I mean.”

“Ah.”

“They really changed things around here. They were pretty young when they took charge themselves. I think that’s why they gave opportunities to those who don’t usually get them. Like me.”

She sighs, sitting back in her chair.

“After Scottie died, things were… tough. It was pretty much a small group of people that dropped everything and kept the firm running. I was one of them. Harvey let me handle quite a few things above my pay grade, and even after things had calmed down I just kept doing them. I may still have the same position on paper, but I’ve helped run this place unofficially ever since then. I guess people didn’t forget that.”

Mike swallows. As much as he thinks about Scottie and the role she had in Harvey’s life, he tends to forget that she played an important part here too. They were partners, Harvey and her. Whatever successes Manderley has had in the past few years, it’s down to both of them. Losing her must have been hell for Harvey, and not just on a personal level.

He also lost the person he relied on, who brought this firm to international success with him only to suddenly have it in his hands alone. Mike can’t imagine dealing with a prospect that scary on top of the grief of losing a loved one. He can’t imagine what Harvey must have gone through, and most likely still does.

It pains him that he wasn’t there to support him then, that he barely knows how to now. But at least he had other people by his side who had his back. People like Rachel.

“Harvey definitely didn’t forget it either. He knows what you do around here, and he really appreciates it.”

Rachel smiles. “Thanks. I really don’t mind, though. Anything I can do to help is good experience for me and a relief for him, and god knows there’s enough on his plate at any given moment.”

“Don’t I know it,” Mike sighs. He shakes his head, then asks, “So you were actually still in law school when… it happened?”

“I was. Graduated last year.”

“Magna cum laude?” he teases.

“Well, almost. Here in the UK it’s just called first class honors.”

“Right. I should read up on how things work here, if I wanna go back to school.”

Rachel glances at him. “Do you?”

“I think so. Yeah.”

He hasn’t really thought much about it, too many other things on his mind, but saying it out loud makes him realize how right it feels. He’s getting the opportunity of a lifetime after all, to realize his dream and prove himself. Not taking it would be foolish.

The corner of Rachel’s mouth lifts. “You’ll be a good lawyer,” she says. “Maybe even as good as me.”

Mike chuckles. “I can only hope.”

They both look up at the quick knock on the door, followed by an associate Mike has only met in passing walking in.

“Rachel, I was wondering if you could give me the- oh. Hi, Mr. Ross. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were- I didn’t mean to disturb.”

“It’s… fine,” Mike says slowly, looking between the guy and Rachel with a frown. “Keith, was it?”

“Kenneth,” he corrects, his shoulders strangely rigid as he looks anywhere but at him.

“Right, Kenneth. You can just call me Mike, by the way. I’m not… there’s no need to be formal.”

He nods curtly. “I can come back later,” he says with a glance at Rachel, who just waves him off.

“You’re not interrupting anything. It’s fine. What did you want?”

“I need the number of that guy you worked with on the patent last month.”

“I’ll forward it to you,” Rachel tells him.

“Thanks.” He flashes her a brief smile, his eyes flickering to Mike again before he excuses himself. Mike blinks after him, then turns to Rachel and raises his eyebrows.

“What was that about?”

Rachel snorts. “I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. He’s smart, but he’s spineless. No idea how he’s ever going to make it in court.”

“Why in god’s name would he be scared of me, though? I’m the new guy. I’m not even a lawyer.”

“You’re Harvey’s fiancé, though,” Rachel points out. “And that gives you a certain… position.”

Mike throws her an unconvinced look. “Does it?”

She purses her lips, her amusement fading. “I mean, you’re not… it’s different, obviously, because you’re not a managing partner, but Scottie was always- let’s say, clear on what she wanted and how she wanted it done. She wasn’t rude or anything, just… quite authoritative.”

“Oh,” Mike says. “I see.”

Of course she was. She owned the place, after all. She wasn’t timid or insecure, didn’t need to be told how to do everything. She did the telling. She probably knew her way around the law and the firm better than he can even dream of. People respected her, and now they expect him to fill her shoes while he barely knows how to fill his own.

Up until a few weeks ago he thought that becoming a lawyer wasn’t even a possibility for him anymore, and while he is a quick study, the amount of things he doesn’t yet know is overwhelming on a good day. He’s not even sure if he’ll be going to law school, or where, or when. He’s not sure about anything. And it’s not that he wants people to quiver in fear when they see him, but he doesn’t want them to compare him to Scottie and conclude that they just can’t see what possessed Harvey to choose him as her successor either.

It’s clear as day to anyone who cares to look, but it still makes him sick to know that people will think he’s no match for him. That he’s nowhere near the level Scottie was on.

And what if Harvey realizes that too?

He doesn’t know how he hasn’t already, but he will, as soon as Mike inevitably fails to deliver on one front or another. Then he’ll begin to question what he’s doing with him, why he ever brought him here from Monaco and invested so much time and money in him when it was always doomed to fail.

The thought makes his stomach sink until he can barely focus on work anymore. He glances at Rachel, who has returned her attention to her case, and takes a deep breath, doing his best to shake the sickening sensation.

It stubbornly persists, and it’s still there when Harvey and he have taken their seats in the study that night, each working on their respective cases.

He thinks he’s doing a fairly good job of hiding it, until Harvey stops his recount of a deposition to ask, “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Sure. Why do you ask?”

“You’re quiet,” Harvey points out, lifting an eyebrow. “No running commentary on my cases today?”

“I thought you’d be glad to, what was it, ‘work in peace’ for once.”

“Call me crazy, but I was just starting to enjoy it.”

Mike chuckles, then looks down. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Harvey accepts the explanation. “The Wilson files can wait until tomorrow, if you want to go to bed.”

Mike gives him a smile. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t get up right away, instead watching Harvey once he returns to his laptop, rubbing his eyes every once in a while.

The longer he looks at him, the more out of place he’s starting to feel, like he’s somewhere he isn’t supposed to be.

Harvey belongs here. It’s clear as day. This is his life, always has been. To him this is just another Thursday evening, only that it’s Mike sitting in the chair across from him now rather than _her_.

Scottie probably sat right where he’s sitting every night, he realizes. Reading her books, working on her cases, never once wasting a thought as to whether Harvey made the right choice in marrying her. And why should she? She was perfect, all things considered. Mike doesn’t even know where to start with the list of his own shortcomings, and he has yet to discover a single flaw of hers in all the stories he’s hearing.

If this is how people saw her, how Harvey saw her…. then he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. How long can he keep up the pretense that he isn’t totally clueless? How long until Harvey realizes that the companionship he offers isn’t worth keeping him around for?

Pressing his lips together, he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to fight the anxiety clawing at his ribcage. It barely subsides, and finally Mike has to admit that he’s not going to be of much use anymore tonight and should just call it a day, hoping that he’ll feel better tomorrow.

He excuses himself to bed, pretending to be fast asleep by the time Harvey joins him long after midnight.

*

“Mike.”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

He turns around, still gazing at his tie that, for some reason, refuses to do what he wants it to. “Sorry, what?”

“I was asking how you feel about meeting the partners today. Excited?”

That’s one way of putting it.

Manderley is holding its first partner meeting since they arrived today, and Harvey thinks it’s a perfect opportunity to officially introduce him. Mike thinks it’s a perfect opportunity to shovel a hole and bury himself in it, but that is neither here nor there.

“I’ve been more excited, not gonna lie,” he murmurs, fidgeting with his tie. It’s a crass understatement, but the horror he feels at the prospect of attending this meeting is nothing he wants Harvey to know about.

“Clearly. I was there for that.” Harvey steps in front of him when he fails to react to the innuendo, gently batting his hands away. “Let me.”

Mike sighs. “Thanks,” he says, watching his swift movements miserably. “God. How am I gonna impress the partners if I can’t even dress myself?”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Impressing them? Mike, they all know what your position at the firm is. No one expects you to be on a partner’s level.”

That doesn’t exactly make things better. In fact, it definitely makes them worse, but Mike does his best to swallow the wave of dread welling up in him and says, “I just want them to have a good first impression of me. You know, as your fiancé.”

_As Scottie’s successor_ goes unsaid and hopefully over Harvey’s head. He finishes fixing his tie before meeting his eyes, brushing his cheek gently.

“You have nothing to be worried about. You charmed me, didn’t you?”

“Just because I managed that once doesn’t mean I know how to recreate the effect,” Mike mutters, smoothing down his shirt before he turns away from the mirror with a sigh. “Thank you.”

Harvey just squeezes his arm in reassurance. “You’ll be fine. Come on now, we’re going to be late.”

‘Late’ of course means ‘late to being early’, but Mike just rolls his eyes and follows him, knowing that putting it off is not going to make it any easier to endure.

He considers it a blessing that the meeting is scheduled for the morning, so at least he won’t have to spend the whole day agonizing about it. This is already bad enough.

Dropping off his things at his desk, he briefly entertains the wishful idea of hiding in the restroom and just sitting it out, but he knows that would only make things worse. He doesn’t need to leave an even poorer first impression than he undoubtedly will.

Most partners are already in the conference room when he arrives, but so is Harvey, who immediately waves him over and, with a hand on his shoulders, starts introducing him.

Thanks to the fact that he’s meeting quite a few people in quick succession, there isn’t much time for them to talk and for him to accidentally make a fool of himself.

It’s still enough for them to judge him. His stomach sinks when he hears the voices behind him while Harvey is distracted by some woman asking about their trip, the hushed words perfectly audible over the chatter in the room.

“Not what I imagined at all. I never would have expected Harvey to go for someone like him.”

“I know. He’s very timid, right?”

_He can hear you_, Mike wants to say, but before he can turn around and pick a fight he would undoubtedly regret later, Donna steps behind him and puts a hand on his back.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, while I appreciate a nice chat as much as anyone, we have to get down to business now. Harvey’s schedule is about as packed as it gets, and I’m sure you all aren’t faring much better.”

Murmurs of agreement sound from the partners, and they start taking their seats without further ado.

Mike catches her eyes, and she just nods when he mouths a silent _thank you_.

Turning around, he finds most seats already occupied. If by coincidence or intentionally, the chair next to Harvey’s at the head of the table is still empty. The idea of taking it makes him vaguely uncomfortable, like he hasn’t earned the place, but he’s pretty much the last one standing by now and he doesn’t want to draw any more attention to himself, so he simply sits down and ignores the thoughts.

He supposes that it _is_ where he belongs, technically. By Harvey’s side. If only he didn’t feel so out of place there.

“Alright,” Harvey begins, “let’s get this started. Before we talk business, I want to introduce the firm’s newest addition to everyone.”

He turns to Mike, smiling.

“For those of you who haven’t met him yet, this is Mike Ross. He’s our paralegal-slash-intern, which is a position we specifically created for him. He is also my fiancé.”

Mike appreciates that, if anyone hasn’t heard already or has any feelings about the fact, they at least don’t let it show.

“If anyone has any questions concerning his position, let me know. For the time being, he’s there to support you like every other paralegal.”

He pauses, and the blood rushes to Mike’s cheeks when no one speaks, instead watching him as if they’re expecting him to say something.

“Uh, thanks, Harvey. It’s- it’s really nice to meet everyone. I’m very excited to be here. And I look forward to working with you all.”

His speech could not have been any blander. The partners respond with generic smiles and a few nods. One woman to his right kindly says, “Likewise. Welcome to Manderley, Mike.”

“Thank you.”

He glances at Harvey, who smiles as well. “Right,” he then continues. “The first item on my list…”

It takes a while for the pounding of Mike’s heart to recede. He barely focuses on what’s being said, overly aware of his presence in the room. He’s not even sure if he’s supposed to hear all this, if he should be here for this part or just leave, but at some point Harvey casually puts a hand over Mike’s on the table as he speaks, so he figures that he isn’t unwelcome.

It feels less suffocating now that he’s not the center of attention anymore. Harvey retracts his hand soon, but even so Mike feels steadier, more grounded. It makes the looks people throw him every once in a while more bearable, and when the meeting dissolves and people stick around to chat, he is as ready to mingle as he will get.

Harvey turns to him once he’s gathered his belongings. “Alright?”

Highly aware of all the people in earshot, Mike just smiles and agrees, “Sure.”

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Not at all,” he lies. “Because of you, I should say,” he adds, and that part is the truth. “Thanks for the support.”

While Harvey isn’t exactly shy when it comes to public displays of affection, he strikes him as too professional to give in to those whims at work under normal circumstances. Mike knows that this was for him.

“I thought you could use it. You looked a little caught in the headlights for a while there, to be honest.”

Great.

“I was just a little nervous. But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re more than fine,” Harvey agrees, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Oh, I’ll say. Quite the charmer, isn’t he?”

Mike turns around, finding Stephen Huntley before him.

“I’ll agree, but I _am_ biased. He’s my fiancé, after all.”

Huntley laughs at that. Mike doesn’t quite know what to make of the man, the feeling that there is something behind his charming personality that he doesn’t want him to see nagging him every time he heard him speak so far.

Harvey and he must be somewhat close though, or at least know each other better, because Huntley leans in and murmurs, loud enough for Mike to hear, “You look better, you know. If we have him to thank for that, I will take it.”

“I never looked not well,” Harvey dissents. He’s neither smiling nor frowning, but the lack of teasing tells Mike that he doesn’t appreciate the remark.

Maybe not that close then.

Huntley doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Bullshit. We both know that six months ago, you were well on your way to a breakdown. You scared me back then, Harvey.”

This time it’s clear to anyone who cares to look that he isn’t responding well. When Mike glances at Harvey, his jaw is clenched and there’s a look in his eyes that would make him recoil if it were directed at him.

“I’ll have to admit that the Swiss air is much more relaxing than my company,” he cuts in on impulse, not wanting Harvey to say anything he’s going to regret. “Though there’s something to be said about the latter as well.”

Huntley chuckles. For once Mike doesn’t mind the attention shifting to him.

“He’s got himself quite a handful with you, hasn’t he?”

“There’s a reason he brought me with him all the way from Monaco,” he says with a smile. “Which, by the way, is beautiful. Have you ever been?”

“Can’t say that I have. I’m not much of a traveler. Always too much to do right here, isn’t there? I have been to Switzerland, though. You’re right, it is rather amazing.”

“Isn’t it? It was my first time there, but I fell in love with it right away. What parts have you seen?”

As Huntley talks, Mike exhales in quiet relief that he managed to redirect the conversation. He startles when Harvey squeezes his arm briefly before he moves past him to excuse himself. It’s the barest touch, but Mike has to bite his lip anyway, trying to conceal how validating it feels.

He gets rid of Huntley soon enough, for once embracing the fact that people have a disproportionate interest in him since it gets him out of that conversation. Most partners are nice enough, though somewhat aloof – which is fine, as Mike doesn’t intend to spend much time with them outside of work.

Which is why he’s taken aback when one of them, the woman who welcomed him after his introduction, goes past the friendly small talk and says, “I just wanted to tell you, you’re doing a good thing.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Harvey,” she elaborates, nodding towards him as he laughs at something one of the partners said. “It’s obvious how different he is from before he met you. Last year, I mean, it was just terrible.” She glances back at him with a sympathetic smile. “You know the story, I suppose.”

Mike gives her a tight smile, no idea how to tell her that he knows nothing at all, that Harvey never talks about it and he never asks.

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

“You know what, this calls for a celebration. I’ve been wanting to take him golfing for so long! We used to do it quite regularly back in the day, though he was never as good at it as he likes to pretend. Which is probably what makes it so fun for me! Do you golf, Mike? You must come along sometime, it’s such fun. A good way to welcome you to Manderley, too.”

“I don’t think that would be quite his thing, Maggie.”

Mike turns around to find Harvey behind him, smiling as he puts a hand between his shoulders. “He’s not much of a sports fan, I’m afraid. He’d rather read the night away than do any kind of exercise.”

“Well, that is no way to spend your life, is it? You have to go out there from time to time.”

Mike flushes, the belittling statement catching him so off guard that he can’t think of a single thing to say in response.

“He does read outside sometimes,” Harvey jokes, running his hand up and down his back. “And I don’t think there’s any need to worry about that. His head is not in the clouds, it’s right here.”

It’s a subtle way of defending him without explicitly calling her out, just enough to steer the conversation elsewhere. Mike appreciates it, but it doesn’t make him feel any less inadequate. There’s nothing wrong with how he spends his free time, he’s well aware of that, but the remark still made him feel like a child who doesn’t know a thing about the real world.

He knew people would see him like that, but because of his hobbies? If that’s enough to make them look down on him, then he never stood a chance.

He exhales quietly, tired beyond words all of a sudden. He just wants to get out of here, have a minute to himself so he can at least try to take on the rest of the day. This whole meeting has left him emotionally drained. Compared to that, the relative peace and quiet of his desk sounds heavenly.

When the crowd finally dissolves for good, he stops by Rachel’s office to pick up what he’s supposed to work on next. She asks how the meeting went, and he puts on a smile and tells her that it wasn’t so bad.

In some ways it wasn’t. In others it was much, much worse.

*

“Whatever that is, leave it for later.”

Mike looks up, frowning. “Why? Do you need me for something?”

“I sure do.” Harvey smirks, leaning over his desk. “I want to take you into the city.”

Mike blinks at him, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“I always have work to do. But if I want to take my fiancé on a date and show him around, then I damn well will.”

“Well, my boss just told me that it’s okay to leave this for later, so what are we waiting for?” He grins. “I’ve wanted to see the city since we got here.”

“I know. Which is why I thought it was high time I showed it to you.”

It’s barely been a week, but Mike nods anyway, taking Harvey’s hand when he holds it out.

A car is already waiting for them on the drive.

“Where are we going?” he wants to know as they get in. “Are we seeing anything special? Did you plan this in advance?”

“Calm down,” Harvey says, amused. “We’re not going on a field trip. I didn’t have anything specific in mind that I want you to see. You’ll have time to explore everything in depth, so I thought we could just take a walk for now and let you get a feeling for the city.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“You’re easily excitable, has anyone ever told you that? I’m starting to feel like I brought a puppy home.”

“If the next thing out of your mouth is a suggestion to try pet play, then I… will have to say that I’m not entirely opposed.”

Harvey snorts. “You’re lucky the partition is down,” he says with a nod towards their driver. Mike smirks.

“Yeah, is there a reason for that?”

“Alright, now you’re getting too excited.”

“Like you wouldn’t be into it.”

“I didn’t say that. However, we’re not that far from the center of the city and I’d loathe not to get to take my time with you.”

“Fair enough,” Mike concedes. He cranes his head to glance out of the window, but there isn’t much to see yet apart from the other cars speeding past them.

Harvey asks the driver to stop near Charing Cross station, and Mike almost stumbles out of the car in his excitement, taking in his surroundings.

Harvey is smiling at him, and the look on his face as he regards him makes Mike’s heart skip a beat.

“Welcome,” he says, his eyes glinting with promise, “to London.”

“Thank you.” Mike grins, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s have a look!”

“With pleasure.”

He turns around to lead the way, and Mike takes his surroundings in hungrily, trying to see as much as he can of this foreign place that is going to be his home from now on.

Even at first glance it’s evident that this is a very different city than the one he grew up in. The architecture is old and elegant, and a little like something out of a fairytale at times. He knows that it doesn’t look like this everywhere in London, but finds himself immediately enchanted with this part immediately.

He stops when Harvey leads them down a street and onto a huge space opening up before them.

“Trafalgar Square,” he realizes, and Harvey nods. “Wow.”

“That’s right, Dorothy. You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“I _love_ this. I mean, just look at that. It’s beautiful,” Mike sighs, letting his eyes roam. There’s an abundance of people, crowds forming wherever performers or street artists are displaying their works. Amidst that, there are several statues and monuments catching his eye, as well as the fountains and the stairs leading up to the National Gallery. The entire place is alive with sound and movements, the music from different corners mingling into a melody that’s surprisingly enjoyable as he takes it all in.

Mike laughs quietly. “This is amazing.” He turns to Harvey. “Show me more.”

Harvey smiles. “Come on then. Let’s go this way.”

He follows his gaze when he points to a big arch on the other side of the square, barely visible from where they stand.

“Buckingham Palace is over there. If you want to see it, we should come back another time when we can take a tour.”

Mike nods, happy to get an overview of the city for now before he gets into the details.

Harvey takes him down Whitehall, passing by Downing Street, until they reach the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, the latter of which leaves Mike a little breathless with admiration.

Harvey seems amused by how he stares up at it.

“I never knew how beautiful it is,” Mike explains himself when he catches his eyes. “I mean, I’ve seen the pictures, obviously, but this…”

“It’s different,” Harvey agrees. “I know. Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much. No regrets about leaving New York then?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s only been a few days, obviously, but I don’t think I’ll miss it too much. I can see now what you meant. This place has everything you want from New York, but it’s still totally different somehow.”

Harvey nods. “And there’s much more, believe me. The city has a lot more to offer than just this.”

“Well, show me,” Mike says, grinning.

Harvey snorts. “Alright. We wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“On a date with you? Never.”

“I’m starting to worry that you’re getting the wrong impression. My dates aren’t usually this cheap.”

“Well, mine are, so everything about this is highly satisfying.”

As they continue walking, Mike asks, “Do _you_ miss it? New York, I mean?”

Harvey hums. “I do, and I don’t. I don’t feel homesick for it, but I remember it fondly despite all its flaws.”

“How long has it been since you were there?”

“Must have been… five years now? Close to six, I think. I haven’t gone back since Manderley fell into my hands.”

“Would you want to go back?”

“Yeah. If it weren’t for the firm, I probably would. I don’t think I ever would have left, actually. I certainly wasn’t planning on taking over Manderley and staying indefinitely when I came. The plan was always to go back and eventually work for my mentor, who made me become a lawyer in the first place.”

“Really?” Mike raises his eyebrows. “Why did you come here at all then?”

“The opportunity presented itself. It was a once-in-a-lifetime job offer, definitely worth the effort of having to familiarize myself with British law. I didn’t think twice about it. I just took it.”

“So you wanted to gather some experience here and then return to the States?”

“That was the idea. Didn’t exactly work out that way, but that’s life, isn’t it?” He shrugs. “That’s not to say that I’m not happy in London, of course. It’s a great city to live in.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

The more Mike sees of the unfamiliar streets they’re walking down, the more enchanted he finds himself with them. He’s enjoying this quick tour way too much, though it’s not just the city he’s enamored with.

It’s being with Harvey, too. Getting to spend time with him, talking, actually doing something with each other instead of just in the same room. Harvey’s attention is not on his phone, or some folder, or a case he’s working on. It’s on him, and Mike only realizes how much he’s been craving it now that he has it.

It's like he’s buzzing with it, and he knows he’s being ridiculous, getting so excited about a walk, but he can’t help it and he doesn’t really care. He pulls Harvey along, starting to take the lead whenever a certain corner catches his eye, not caring where they end up as long as they keep going.

Harvey lets him drag him around for a while without complaints, clearly amused by Mike’s excitement.

“What’s over there?”

“Victoria Station.”

“Oh, cool.”

He shakes his head. “I could have told you it’s a dog park and you would have gotten excited.”

“Yeah, well, obviously. Dogs are awesome.”

“If you’re thinking about asking whether we can get a dog, the answer is no.”

“Fine. No dogs.” Mike grins. “I’m perfectly happy with a cat too.”

He turns to cross the street and enter a cute little alley, several bar and restaurant signs drawing his attention, but Harvey resists the pull, shaking his head when he looks at him. The easy smile has slipped from his face.

“Let’s not go this way.”

“Why? What’s over there?”

“Nothing. I’ve just seen that part enough times. I’m sick of it.”

Mike lifts his eyebrows.

“Alright, well, we don’t have to,” he says after a slight pause.

They turn into another direction, continuing their walk in silence. Mike glances at Harvey’s tense shoulders in concern.

He doesn’t ask what was on that alley that he doesn’t want to go there anymore.

He can take a wild guess.

“Where does this street lead?” he asks, mostly to distract him, and is relieved to find no signs of the strange tension in his voice when he replies.

He asks another question, making an effort to keep the conversation going, and soon enough it’s like the short interlude never happened at all.

“Hungry?” Harvey asks when they pass a charming little bar, and since that’s pretty much Mike’s default state, they stop for burgers and the best truffle fries he has ever had.

“Haven’t been here in years,” Harvey tells him, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I remembered how good the food is, though. I’m not usually crazy about burgers, but these left an impression.”

“Plus, you know how much I love burgers.”

“I do,” Harvey says with a long-suffering sigh. “Of course I couldn’t find myself a fiancé with more sophisticated tastes.”

Mike smiles, but it feels strained on his face.

“Are you eating that?” he asks, already reaching for Harvey’s fries.

“You have _got_ to stop that.”

“What’re you gonna do, sue me?”

“Don’t give me ideas.”

“Imagine the scandal. The whole firm coming to a standstill. People following us to our house to see if we still live together. The Sun harassing us for an interview.”

“Not worth it,” Harvey says, grimacing. “I’ll give up my fries before that.”

“Your chips, you mean?” Mike asks, actually quite proud of his fake British accent. Harvey snorts.

“Don’t start.”

“Whatever are you going to do about it, darling?”

He laughs when Harvey glares at him.

“I’m marrying a child,” he mutters.

Mike pats his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll practice.”

“Please don’t. You’re a man of many talents already. Faking a British accent doesn’t need to be one of them.”

“That’s… actually really sweet of you. So you don’t think I’m doing a terrible job so far?”

His tone is light, but he’s holding his breath as he waits for his reaction, hoping to hear him say it.

“Trust me, kid. If I didn’t think you were doing good, you would know.”

That’ll do, Mike decides.

“Let’s keep going for a while,” he suggests once they’ve paid despite the late hour. If Harvey knows he’s trying to make this last as long as possible, he doesn’t say a word about it.

It’s gotten dark as they ate and the sight of London by night awaits them as they step outside, which is almost more charming than by day. Harvey leads him back to Big Ben to show him what it looks like in the dark, and they end up walking along the Thames from there, enjoying the cool breeze by the water.

Mike’s feet hurt by the time they call it a day and hail a cab, but even so he would have gladly stayed out all night.

“Thank you for doing this,” he says when they get home. “I had an amazing time.”

“So did I. We’ll do this again,” Harvey promises.

Mike tries not to get his hopes up, knowing how busy he is, but it’s still disappointing when a week goes by without any date nights, then another one, and another.

He expected it to be like this, but he still watches with a heavy heart as time passes and their quiet nights in the study are pretty much the only chances they get to be together.

Harvey spends a lot of time at the office, and even when he’s home he’s always working on one thing or another. Time they can spend with each other is scarce, and time without either of them distracted by their workload even more so.

Mike tries his hardest not to feel neglected, because he gets it. Being the sole managing partner of a firm as big as Manderley can’t be easy, and it’s admirable how he manages to stay on top of his work at all.

But then Harvey acts weird sometimes. He doesn’t show Mike what he’s working on. He doesn’t talk about it. He closes the file the moment Mikes steps into the room and refuses to acknowledge that he was looking at it at all when he asks what he’s up to.

And sometimes he goes into _that_ room. The one Mike isn’t allowed to enter.

He has seen him come out of it twice now, each time looking caught for a split second before he has his features under control again, never giving any indication as to what he did in there, what’s so important that he took out the key and unlocked it. Why he made sure to lock it again each time afterwards.

Mike has checked.

It irked him the first time, but he wrote it off.

But then it happened again.

He really doesn’t know what to make of it. Nothing else changes, and the way Harvey acts towards him is the same it always was, so he watches on helplessly, no idea if he should even bring it up. Because he feels like Harvey is hiding something from him, but he also feels like it’s not his place to ask, not when he is so clearly reluctant to share whatever he’s doing with him.

Which is fair. He can accept that. He just wishes he knew _why_.

Is it because Harvey doesn’t trust him enough? Or because he doesn’t think he can keep up, handle it? What else could there be?

He keeps stealing glances at him over his folder the third time he catches him leaving that room. Harvey is absorbed in a stack of files, the small crease between his eyebrows never leaving as his eyes move over the pages.

Eventually he reaches for his pocket, his frown deepening when he stops and looks up.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I was just looking for my phone. I must have left it in-“

He doesn’t finish. Not that he needs to.

Mike shuts his file and sits up. “I can get it for you. Is it in that room?”

“No, Mike, stay.”

“It’s not a problem, I can just-“

“Mike!” he snaps, the sudden change in his voice almost as startling as his volume. “I said _leave_ it. I’ll get it myself.”

Shutting his mouth with a click, Mike sinks back into the chair. His cheeks burn with humiliation as he drops his eyes. “Alright, no need to yell. I was just trying to help.”

Harvey lets out a deep breath. “I know.” He sounds tired now rather than angry. “I’m sorry.”

Mike presses his lips together and doesn’t respond.

Harvey gets up to leave the study. He listens to the silence his absence brings with it, frowning at the documents he left on his chair, the written side facing down, of course.

He can hear the key turning in the lock before he returns. Harvey stops next to him on his way back, and when he glances up, he finds him looking down at him with a complicated expression. He reaches for his cheek to brush it with the back of his hand, the touch almost unbearably tender.

Mike swallows, struggling to hold his gaze.

“Alright?” Harvey asks quietly.

He nods.

Harvey’s face softens. His hand lingers on his cheek before he sits back down, sending a quick text before putting his phone away and returning to his work. Mike tries his best to do the same.

When Harvey eventually sets the files aside with a deep breath, he can’t tell if it’s because he’s done with whatever he was doing or if he just gave up on it. He’ll be damned if he’s going to ask, though.

His eyes follow him when he gets up and crosses the room, stopping in front of the shelves to pick a book before returning.

He just sits and stares into the fire for a while. It’s almost too warm for it now. They won’t be able to light it much longer. His face glistens where the light of the flames touches it, the shadows and movements it casts reminding him once again how little he actually knows of the man behind it.

Mike grimaces at the thought. He doesn’t want to think things like that. He doesn’t want to sit with Harvey and feel like he can’t say what he wants to, too afraid that he’s going to misstep. He doesn’t want the man he’s going to marry to feel like a stranger to him.

He keeps watching him, compelled by the need to assure himself that he’s not that unknown to him, to look for familiar signs and shifts of his expression. Harvey either doesn’t care, or simply doesn’t notice.

He’s almost sure it’s the latter. There’s a distinct thoughtlessness to his movements, an absent look in his eyes, like he’s seeing right through whatever’s before him. He keeps lowering his book, barely having turned a page, his eyes wandering back to the flames as if on their own account.

For the first time since they got here, Mike realizes how exhausted he looks.

The lines under his eyes are deep and pronounced, not from age but from weariness. His shoulders are tense, even here in the privacy of their own home. He’s never entirely relaxed, always on guard somehow. What for, Mike can’t begin to guess.

It’s in his movements too. How he rubs his eyes as if the exhaustion is something he can wipe away if he tries hard enough. How his chest heaves with the deep breaths he lets out sometimes, not quite a sigh but close enough for Mike to know.

The weight on his shoulders must be so heavy. It’s no wonder he snapped at him. Mike doesn’t like it, but he understands. He wouldn’t be holding up any better in his position.

Harvey rubs his eyes again, the thoughtless motion almost childlike, and looking at him Mike realizes that he’s already forgiven him.

“Do you want me to read to you?”

He doesn’t know where the question is coming from, but Harvey’s surprised expression only affirms him.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I could. If you wanted.”

He hesitates, then shakes his head. “You don’t-”

“Harvey,” Mike interrupts him gently. “You can say yes.”

They look at each other.

“If you don’t mind,” Harvey agrees after a short pause.

He suppresses a smile, accepting the book he hands him. “I don’t. From the start?”

Harvey nods, confirming his suspicions that he wasn’t taking any of it in before, and so Mike begins, “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me…”

It’s unfamiliar to read out loud at first, but he loses his inhibitions quickly as he gets into it.

Harvey doesn’t notice that halfway through the chapter, Mike stops reading and starts reciting from memory. He’s familiar with The Catcher in the Rye, and he falls into the flow easily, letting the rhythm of the words guide him as he looks at Harvey over the book, watching the movement of his chest and the change in his eyes as Mike’s voice fills the space between them.

He’s there and he isn’t, listening intently, too intently at times, his eyes staring into the fire like he’s seeing something that he can’t, but Mike doesn’t mind. Maybe this is what Harvey needs, a way to get away for a while. He will sit here all night if he can offer him that escape.

He goes on, keeps watching him as he recites, struggling to keep the overwhelming affection welling up in him at bay, and he rejoices silently when the tension in Harvey’s shoulders finally subsides and he leans back with a deep breath. He may not be truly relaxed, but he’s calm. It counts for something.

All the more because Mike did this for him. He achieved it, eased the burden for at least a little while, gave him this moment of quiet intimacy to find shelter in.

He made it better. He can’t imagine a more validating feeling in the world.

Even more so because he’s quite certain that Scottie never did this for him.

She may have sat where he sits now, and she may have known Harvey better than he does, but he’s got time to catch up. They’ll get to know each other better. They’ll make their own traditions, starting with this one. And right now, right here, it’s just the two of them. This is something that, for once, she is not part of.

Mike thrives on the sense of accomplishment it gives him, the ridiculous pride that he did good all on his own. He can be worthy of his title as Harvey’s fiancé, as her successor. The thought fuels him, making his voice rise and fall with the words, breathing enough life into them to keep Harvey enchanted and make the moment last just a little longer.

He only stops when Harvey yawns repeatedly, handing him the book back with a smile and a quiet promise to himself to return to this at the next opportunity. He takes a mental note to enquire about Harvey’s favorite works at some point so he can memorize them too.

That night is the first on which they go to bed at the same time. Mike isn’t even mad that Harvey is clearly too tired to do anything more than sleep – this, curling up with him, having his arm around his waist as his breath evens out and they fall asleep, is endlessly more precious.

*

“Yeah, he’s here. Sure. I’ll send him over.” Rachel hangs up. “Harvey wants to see you.”

Mike looks at her, the pen between his lips muffling his words when he asks, “Did he say why? I haven’t done anything, have I?”

“How would I know?” When Mike gives her a look, she adds, “Just go. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Don’t I know it,” Mike mumbles, dropping the pen before he gets up. “I’ll be back soon,” he calls over his shoulder on his way out.

“Oh, I know you will,” she mutters.

“How did you know I was in Rachel’s office?” Mike asks as he strides into Harvey’s office.

“When aren’t you?” He lifts an eyebrow. “We should just set up a desk for you in there so you at least don’t steal all her space.”

“Hey, she doesn’t mind me working there! I think,” he adds, narrowing his eyes. “She laughs at my jokes sometimes.”

“Well, that surely makes up for the rest.”

Mike gives him a look.

“What did you ask me here for?” he then asks.

“There’s a case I’m working on. I want us to brainstorm the best approach together.”

“Really?”

Harvey nods. “I think it’ll be a good learning opportunity for you. And I want to hear your thoughts.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth lifts. “Awesome.” He drops on the chair before his desk with an expectant look. “What’s the case about?”

Mike leans in to listen as Harvey describes the details to him, intrigued.

“So we’re basically trying to get this guy off the hook even though we know he fucked up,” he summarizes.

“Yes. Sometimes you’re going to have to work with people you don’t agree with, and you’re going to have to do things you wouldn’t normally do. But that’s your job. It’s what you get paid for. Our client’s wellbeing is our top priority.”

Mike lets out a deep breath, but nods. “Well, as long as he didn’t kill anyone…”

“Not that I know of. And believe me, if I did then he wouldn’t be my client anymore. Even I have limits as to what I’m willing to tolerate.”

There’s a strange twist around his mouth as he says that. Mike lifts an eyebrow.

“Sore spot, huh? I feel like there’s a story there.”

Harvey presses his lips together, but doesn’t reply. “Tell me what you would do,” he asks instead.

Mike narrows his eyes as he thinks.

“I have a few ideas,” he announces.

Harvey leans back, holding out his hands. “Well, let’s hear it.”

So Mike dives right into it. He almost trips over his words in his enthusiasm, but Harvey just lets him speak, redirecting his ideas whenever he hits a dead end but otherwise allowing him to explore freely.

They play off each other so well. Mike doesn’t even feel like he’s actively making an effort to maintain the flow of the discussion, he’s just reacting, a quick and constant back and forth, like a game of ping pong that just keeps going.

It’s jarring when the knock on the door sounds, firmly bringing him back to earth. Harvey’s face is a clear display of displeasure when he sees who it is. It’s gone in a moment, but Mike still caught it.

“Huntley,” he says, his voice betraying nothing. “What can I do for you?”

“Harvey. Mike.” He nods at him, holding up a folder. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything… important.” The way he says it makes Mike slightly uncomfortable, and a glance at Harvey’s shoulders reveals that he’s not relaxing either. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. In private.”

“Well, go on,” Harvey says into the slight pause that follows. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Mike.”

Biting his lip to conceal his smile, Mike straightens and does his best to look professional.

“Very well.” Handing Harvey the file, Huntley begins, “I’ve been going through our books, and something doesn’t add up. Now, that’s no reason to worry just yet. I’m sure all those gaps could easily be explained if we had a full overview of the past five years. However, we don’t. There’s a lot missing that I can’t seem to find where it should be.”

Mike frowns. “How is that possible? The system is pretty elaborate from what I’ve gathered. How do things just go missing?”

He glances at Harvey and shuts his mouth with a click, the look in his eyes giving him the distinct feeling that he just did something wrong.

Huntley turns to him, lifting an eyebrow, but nodding. “Precisely. They shouldn’t, but they did. Someone messed up at some point along the way. Which means it’ll be hard to prove that nothing questionable is going on, should anyone ask.”

He turns back around.

“I don’t know, Harvey. I think we need to look into this. I just don’t want there to be any lack of clarity among our partners, and I definitely don’t want any surprises if someone starts asking questions. If anything’s wrong, it’s going to look like we tried to cover it up. And it will fall back on you. No one is going to believe that you weren’t in on it.”

Harvey’s jaw twitches before he shuts the file abruptly, standing up.

“I can’t have been in on it if there is no ‘it’,” he says. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but there’s no need for you to be concerned. Just leave it to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Huntley appraises him, then nods curtly. “I just wanted to bring it to your attention.”

“Like I said, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Huntley nods at Mike as well, who manages a half-smile, before he turns and leaves the room. The door shuts with a soft click.

“Son of a bitch,” Harvey mutters, and before Mike can even say a word he has already flung the folder across the room.

Mike blinks at the pages scattering on the floor, then up at Harvey. It doesn’t seem to have helped. If anything he looks even more thunderous, the sudden anger in his expression catching him entirely off guard.

“I knew he wouldn’t leave it alone. I goddamn knew it. Of course he wouldn’t.”

Mike frowns. “What are you talking about? I don’t… what the fuck is going on?”

“Always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” Harvey continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “Like I don’t have enough on my plate as it is.”

Mike blinks at him helplessly, no idea what he’s supposed to say. When the words don’t come, he just gets up and crosses the room, sinking down on one knee to gather up the documents.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He continues regardlessly.

“Mike, just leave it. Please.”

He halts at the tone of his voice, looking up to meet his eyes. Harvey shakes his head.

“I don’t want you to clean up my messes,” he says wearily, and it doesn’t sound like he’s talking just about the paper on the floor.

Straightening, Mike puts the small stack he gathered on his desk and leaves the rest be. Harvey sighs, running a hand over his face. The sound is heavy with an exhaustion Mike can’t begin to understand.

“What was that about, Harvey?” he asks quietly.

Harvey just shakes his head.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” he mutters. “We should have stayed in Monaco, or Switzerland. Started over new. It was a mistake coming back to Manderley. God, what a fool I was to come back.”

Mike takes a step back, instinctively recoiling. The words cut him like a knife. He can clearly see himself in the spaces between them despite the fact that Harvey never said his name, and the thought of him feeling this much regret about his decision to take him here brings about a wave of nausea he is powerless against.

He thinks of the way Harvey looked at him when he made that remark about the books and just wants to bang his head against the wall. How stupid he was in hindsight. Why did he have to say anything? Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? He only made things worse, and now Harvey is starting to regret bringing him here and it’s his own damn fault.

Part of him wants to ask if Huntley is on to something, if he’s hiding things that shouldn’t come to light, but looking at Harvey, he decides that it doesn’t matter. He would stand by him either way.

If he still wants him to, that is.

He takes a hesitant step towards him, reaching out before thinking better of it and dropping his hand again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

“What?” Harvey looks up with a frown. “I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you? You haven’t done anything.”

“Yes, you are. And I did. I agreed with Huntley. I should have been on your side. And now you’re hurt and it’s my fault and I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. I’m sorry.”

He heaves a desperate breath. “I just, I hate to see you like this. I love you,” he says helplessly, a last resort to bring him back from wherever he just went.

Harvey blinks at him before he shakes his head, pressing his lips together.

“No, I am sorry. God, Mike. I didn’t mean to let it out on you. I’m stressed, that’s all. It has nothing to do with you.” He takes his hand and squeezes it firmly. “There are no sides, and you’ve done nothing wrong. You don’t have to take it personally every time something bad happens, you know.”

Mike swallows, dropping his eyes. “Do you really regret coming here?” he asks.

Harvey sighs. “It’s not that easy,” he evades. It’s not really an answer, but it looks like it’s all Mike is going to get.

“Is there anything I can do? About Huntley?”

The humorless laugh Harvey lets out is startling. “There’s nothing either of us can do about that. It’s fine. We’ll just have to trust that there’s nothing damning for him to find, or anyone else.”

Mike nods slowly. “Alright.”

Harvey gives his hand another squeeze, then lets go, exhaling deeply. “Going back to the case…”

Sitting down again, Mike does his best to follow and participate in the discussion, but his mind is only half there.

He hopes it isn’t as obvious as it is that Harvey still thinks about the incident, too.


	5. Chapter 5

“You look tired,” Harvey remarks as he joins him in the kitchen.

“Thanks.”

Harvey chuckles. “Sleep alright?”

“Sure. You?”

Mike can’t help the smile pulling at his lips when Harvey steps behind him and nuzzles his neck.

“With you? Always,” he murmurs.

Mike presses the button on the coffee machine and turns around, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re suspiciously charming today.”

“It’s just the truth.”

“I don’t buy it. You look tired too.”

Harvey sighs. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees quietly. He knows.

He didn’t exactly sleep well last night, or rather every night of the past week, but Harvey doesn’t need to know that. He pretends to be asleep every time he goes to bed before him only to still be wide awake when he joins him. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

_I know you told me not to worry but I still do to the point where I can’t sleep? Your voice when you said you were a fool to come back keeps echoing in my head and I can’t turn it off? I keep hearing you snap at me for wanting to go into that room every time I close my eyes?_

Yeah, no. He’ll stick to his silence.

“I have to get ready. Could you get me the green folder from your bag before you have your coffee?”

“Sure.”

The smile slips from Mike’s lips as soon as he turns around to get dressed and take on another day, to put on that suit and become Harvey Specter instead of just Harvey. His Harvey.

It startles him how much he misses him. Not physically – they don’t have sex or even cuddle nearly as often as Mike would like, sure, but they make time for it whenever they can, and it works.

What he really misses is the Harvey from their vacation, who smiled more and frowned less and wasn’t weighed down by the firm a little more every day. Who didn’t lock any doors he wasn’t allowed to go through, who was right there with Mike instead of half turned away from him, one eye always on the past like it’s going to catch up with him any moment.

They live together, and they work together, and they share a life in every sense of the word, but there’s still a barrier between them that Mike can’t make his way around. He can’t reach Harvey behind it, can only look on as he walks alone on the other side and Mike can’t, must not come near.

He still tries, of course, jumping at every chance to spend more time with him and maybe, hopefully, catch a glimpse into the parts of his life he never talks about.

Which is why he drops everything despite having quite the list of things to do when Harvey calls Rachel’s line and asks him to come into his office. Promising to be there as soon as he’s done with proofing, Mike rushes through his file and then hurries to the office. He knocks and opens the door, halting when he finds the office empty. He frowns, leaning back out of the doorframe.

“Donna? Where is he?”

“He had to go take care of something,” she informs him without looking up from her screen. “Some associate made a mess.”

Mike winces in sympathy – he wouldn’t want to swap with them and be at the receiving end of Harvey’s annoyance.

“Do you know when he’ll be back? He asked me to come here, but I have other things to work on if this is going to take a while.”

“I have no idea. He’s usually quite efficient at problem solving, of course, because who has time to clean up the little guys’ messes? But you never know how big the mess actually is.” She shrugs. “You can just come back with your things and work here while you wait for him. He won’t mind.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

He returns a few minutes later to a still empty office, eyeing the desk before opting for the sofa, not wanting to be presumptuous. Even so there’s an almost childlike excitement to it, like he’s a kid who gets to sit at the grown-ups table.

He enjoys working in Rachel’s office – he barely spends time in the bullpen anymore, and he can’t say that he misses it. But it doesn’t compare to _this_.

Maybe it’s because he knows that this is Harvey’s office, but it’s almost too easy to forget that he’s not actually supposed to be here. He could get used to doing his work on this sofa, with this view, and maybe Harvey working quietly alongside him…

He startles when the ringing of the phone rips him from his thoughts.

Donna wouldn’t put anyone through when he’s not here, so this must be someone who has the number that goes straight to Harvey’s personal line.

Maybe it’s an important client. Or maybe it’s someone Harvey knows privately.

Biting his lip, Mike wonders if he should take the call or if that would be overstepping. But it keeps ringing, and eventually his curiosity outweighs his concerns. Before he can think better of it, he picks up the phone and holds it to his ear.

“Harvey Specter’s office,” he says breathlessly. “Who’s speaking?”

He doesn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line when it asks after a slight pause, “The better question is, who are _you_?”

“My name is Mike Ross. I’m-“

The new intern? Harvey’s fiancé? Before he can find an appropriate ending, the woman says, “Oh. So you’re his new guy.”

Well. He supposes that’s what he is.

How depressing.

“That would be me,” he confirms. “And you are?”

“Jessica Pearson. In some ways you might say I’m his old guy.”

“I… don’t know what that means,” Mike confesses, curling his hand around the phone.

“I’m the one who set him on his path as a lawyer. Put him through law school. I believed he would come and work for me eventually, but alas, he had other plans. Not that I blame him, of course. If he hadn’t taken the opportunity Manderley offered him, I would have personally kicked his ass.”

Oh, so that’s how she meant it.

“You’re the Pearson of Pearson Hardman,” Mike realizes. “Right. I thought I recognized a New Yorker accent.”

“Takes one to know one. How do you like being away from the city? Harvey told me how different everything was when he first moved there.”

“It is very different,” Mike agrees. “But in a good way. I never had an issue with New York, but it’s nice to see something else for a change.”

“Is it? I wouldn’t know. What do you like about it, then?”

“I, uh… well, I haven’t seen all that much yet, to be honest, but it’s just a very nice atmosphere, you know? It’s- it feels good to be here,” he finishes lamely.

“Ah,” Jessica says, and he closes his eyes, trying to suppress a groan. He should have come up with something better. Made up some story about the cultural differences, about some play he saw or anything more sophisticated than _it feels good to be here_.

“Well, make sure that you don’t just spend all your time working. I know Harvey can be a hardass, but he took some time off too when he was new there, so don’t let him tell you otherwise. You should go out and explore the city.”

“I definitely will,” Mike vows. “Have you ever been here?”

“Oh, several times. It does have a pleasant atmosphere. And getting to see Harvey is a nice bonus.”

Mike huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I feel the same way when I get to see him.”

“Is he working that much? No wonder he barely calls.”

“He’s very busy,” he amends diplomatically.

She hums. “It’s a tough line of work. How do you like it so far? I hear you want to become a lawyer too.”

So people are talking about him even outside the country? Harvey must have told her about him. But he never mentioned her to Mike, only in passing. Why didn’t he say more if they’re so close? Why does Mike never get to hear about the aspects of his life he isn’t already part of?

While everyone else gets to hear about _him_, apparently.

This new level of fame is something he hasn’t yet managed to wrap his head around. He’s still struggling to get used to the feeling of being judged at every step, the words he caught more times than he wants to remember seeming to follow him everywhere.

_He’s so different from Scottie_.

No matter who he meets, no matter how many times he introduces himself, tries to reinvent himself, tries to come off as something he’s not, they all know. It’s just a farce, a play no one gave him the lines for, and he’s the only one on stage who has no idea what the hell he’s doing. Of course it shows. Of course they talk about him.

He can hear it in her words now too, in the silence between what they’re saying. She thinks the same thing.

_He’s so unlike her_.

He can’t even fool people over the phone, it seems.

“I’m enjoying it a lot, actually. It’s definitely proven me right in wanting to become a lawyer. I’m not sure if corporate is what I want to do, to be honest, but… yeah. The law in general is definitely my thing.”

“Well, corporate _is_ a rather cutthroat world. That’s not for everyone.”

Just another thing setting him apart from Scottie. Great.

“What can you see yourself doing then?” she asks.

“Well, I initially wanted to become a lawyer to help people, so… something where that’s possible would be nice.”

He knows how naïve it sounds even as he says it, can already imagine what she must think of him – too soft for the cutthroat world of corporate law, too childish to understand that the world isn’t a friendly place, too foolish to realize that wanting to change it isn’t going to work anyway.

“Noble aspirations,” is all Jessica remarks. “You will like why I’m calling then. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the annual gala Manderley used to host. It’s a charity event that a number of good causes benefitted from over the years, long before Harvey even worked there. I was actually calling to ask him if he’s still going to host it this year.”

She doesn’t specify why, but she doesn’t need to.

Mike swallows. “I haven’t heard anything about it, but I’ll ask him,” he promises.

“That would be great. I’d need to clear my schedule and book tickets for it, and I’d rather not wait until the last second.”

“No, of course. He’ll let you know.”

“Thank you. Well, I’ll let you get back to your work then.”

“Sure. It was nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you in person at the gala soon.”

“I hope so. Goodbye, Mike.”

He puts the phone down, sucking in his lip before he goes straight to his laptop, opening a new tab to search for the words _Manderley_ and _gala_.

He finds more than he expected. His jaw drops as he scrolls through the pictures and reads up on the apparently rather elaborate party.

Clearly this was a big thing. It happened every year for over a decade. How the hell was he not aware of that?

He remembers hearing something about an event at one point, but he didn’t realize what that actually entailed. It was kind of a big deal, according to the articles he’s reading. Everyone of importance in the field and then some attended, with a few special guests from overseas, like the one he just talked to on the phone.

And there _she_ is, of course. Smiling in every picture, her shoulders straight, her beauty unparalleled. It’s not even the gown she’s wearing, and Mike is pretty sure it’s designer, definitely not off the rack – it’s the look on her face, the grace and elegance she’s radiating almost blinding. And these are only pictures. Mike can barely imagine what she must have been like in real life. All things considered, he really doesn’t want to.

“Sorry you had to wait.”

He startles, looking up when Harvey strides into the office. He shuts the laptop before he can glance at it, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything okay?”

He rolls his eyes. “It is now.”

“Good. Uh, before we start, Jessica Pearson just called.”

“Oh?”

Mike nods. “She was asking about the annual gala and if it’s happening this year. I told her you would call her back.”

He rushes to get the words out, reluctant to even say them in the first place, to make Harvey think about all _that_. Best to just get it over with and move on.

Harvey, for his part, just blinks at him with his forehead creased before he shakes his head, sinking into his chair.

“Shit,” he mutters. “I didn’t even think about that.”

Mike swallows. Just this once he hoped Harvey would breeze past the subject like he usually does, but of course he has no such luck.

He wants to say something, but he has no idea what, and the longer he thinks about it the more lost he feels. He is in way over his head here. This is far too close to the one thing they never talk about, the box with her name on it that’s been wrapped up and hidden in a bag, to be stuffed into the farthest corner of a closet before they locked the door twice and then threw away the key for good measure.

He’s treading on thin ice, and even if he dared to move he would have no idea in what direction.

Scottie would know. She would know exactly what to say, how to make Harvey feel better.

God, how Mike wishes he could be more like her. He doesn’t even need to be as perfect as her, damn it. He just needs to be enough for Harvey.

But no matter how hard he wishes, it won’t change who he is. So instead of trying to figure it out only to make a fool of himself, he just asks, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I don’t wanna do it.”

Mike lifts his shoulders. “Well, you don’t have to.”

Sighing, Harvey runs a hand over his face. “Yes, I do. The implications if I didn’t would be… disastrous. Manderley needs to stand strong. As do I.” He lifts his shoulders. “And it is for a good cause. So we’ll do it.”

He sits up and turns on the intercom. “Donna, could you come in here for a second?”

“Sure.”

She strides into the room, raising an eyebrow at Mike. “What has he done? Do we need to cover up any accidents?”

“No, nothing like that. Is the third weekend in September still cleared?”

“It always is,” Donna says, narrowing her eyes. “You want to go ahead with the gala?”

“I have to.”

She doesn’t ask for an explanation, just accepts it with a nod.

“I know it’s on short notice, but do you think we can get the invitations out by Monday?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

He lets out a deep breath. “And while we’re on the subject, could you-“

“Take care of the rest too?”

“Or find someone who will,” he finishes.

“Of course. Consider it done.”

“Thanks, Donna. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.” She smiles before turning on her heels, probably already color coordinating the decorations in her head.

Mike looks after her, letting out a frustrated breath. He wishes he could help too, could do more than ask stupid questions and bring up things Harvey would rather not talk about. He should be more helpful as his fiancé, _he_ should be the one he calls a lifesaver, he should be his rock, but he’s just… Mike. All he is is a kid that’s still learning to stand on his own two feet when everyone else has long taken off. He can barely manage his own life. How the hell is he supposed to support Harvey in his? And how much longer is Harvey going to play along before he can’t pretend it’s enough anymore?

“Alright,” Harvey sighs, ripping him from the downward spiral of his thoughts. “Let’s get back to work. This will take up enough of our time in the upcoming weeks.”

Mike swallows, attempting a smile that barely meets the requirements, but thankfully Harvey seems too distracted to notice.

“Sure. What did you ask me here for?”

“There’s something I wanted to show you when it comes to patents. Get over here for a second.”

Mike nods, stepping behind him with a deep breath and trying his hardest to pay attention.

“So, Harvey just told me about the gala,” he announces when he gets back to Rachel’s office, dropping in his chair.

She stops typing, raising her eyebrows. “That’s still happening?”

“Yeah. You sound surprised.”

“No, it’s just- well, they used to start planning it a lot earlier, so I assumed that meant it wasn’t going to happen this year. Also because-“

Mike purses his lips when she cuts off. “It was something they did together?”

“Yeah. Well, I suppose it was her,” she adds reluctantly, her mouth a thin line. “She usually took care of planning these events. And she did an incredible job.” She sighs. “Everyone always talked about it for days.”

Of course they did.

“Rachel, what happened to her?” Mike asks, because he suddenly just needs to know. Rachel blinks at him, frowning.

“You don’t know?”

He shakes his head stiffly. “Harvey never talks about it.”

She searches his face, clearly hesitant, then sighs. “I’m not sure it should be me who tells you this, but- whatever. I think you have a right to know.” Letting out a deep breath, she continues, “She drowned. Harvey and her were on a weekend trip. They never usually did that kind of thing, which makes it even more tragic. They were always working so hard, spending all their time at the firm, and then the one time they got away-“

She breaks off, pressing her lips together.

“Couldn’t anyone have helped?” Mike asks, trying to wrap his head around what happened that day.

She shakes her head. “She’d gone by herself. Harvey didn’t realize something was wrong until it was too late.”

Mike swallows. “He’s the one who found her?”

Rachel gives him a sympathetic look. “No, Mike,” she says gently. “They never found her.”

“They didn’t?”

Mike stares at her, his mouth hanging open. He had no idea, but it makes a terrible kind of sense the longer he thinks about it.

No wonder Harvey can’t find closure. He never got to say goodbye.

Rachel shakes her head. “They just found the boat she’d taken. She knew how to sail, but I suppose she slipped and lost consciousness after hitting her head or something. There was blood by the railing when they found the boat, I think. I’m not sure on the details. It was… messy.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike mutters, suddenly uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to bring all that back. I can’t imagine how… I’m just trying to understand.” He takes a deep breath. “I keep hearing all these incredible things about her, and how great she was, and I’m just… not like that. I’m trying to navigate it, but- it’s not that easy.”

“Oh, Mike.” Rachel covers his hand, squeezing it in sympathy as she shakes her head. “There’s no need to apologize. I get that it’s hard, coming here and being thrown into this whole mess. But nobody thinks of you that way. Nobody who matters, anyway. You’re doing great. I know Harvey thinks so, too.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I really hope you’re right.”

“I know I am. You don’t have to be her, Mike. No one expects that of you. You just have to be you.” She tilts her head. “It shouldn’t be me who tells you this, though. Just… talk to Harvey, alright? He would hate for you to feel this way.”

“No, I can’t do that. I don’t know how, and- I don’t want him to feel like he’s doing something wrong. He has enough to worry about.” He gives her a pleading look. “Please don’t tell him about this. I’m serious.”

She frowns, letting out a deep breath. “I won’t,” she promises reluctantly. “Just let me say this one thing, Mike. I’ve known Harvey for quite a while, and we’ve been through a lot together.”

Mike hates himself for the stab of jealousy he feels at those words. She doesn’t mean to rub in that she knows him better than him, that everyone and their goddamn mother does, but that doesn’t make the reminder any less painful.

“And I can see how much he’s changed since you came here,” she carries on. “You’re so good for him, Mike. For a while, before he met you, it was like… he was walking the line of an actual breakdown, and we never quite knew if he was going to make it or not. He’s not like that anymore.” The corner of her mouth lifts. “You brought him back from that.”

Swallowing, he nods. “Thanks, Rachel. I appreciate that.”

“And we appreciate you,” she returns. “As does Harvey.”

He chuckles quietly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

He does, and he doesn’t.

It’s a relief to hear that he’s been having an at least somewhat positive impact on Harvey’s life. But that doesn’t stop him from feeling like a guest in his own house, from using the cutlery and the plates and the towels and thinking of them as hers rather than his own, from seeing her shadow behind every corner and especially in that room behind the door he mustn’t enter. Even when he’s sitting across from Harvey that night, nothing disturbing their togetherness, he can’t help but think about her.

“You have that look on your face again.”

Mike blinks at him. “What look?”

“Like you’re brooding over something and you aren’t getting anywhere.”

“That’s… not very flattering. That’s what I look like?”

“Sometimes, yes, and it’s usually when you _are_ brooding over something. So, are you?”

He smiles. “Just had a long day, that’s all.”

“Hm. Well, maybe this will cheer you up.”

Harvey rises and walks out the door. Mike blinks after him.

“You leaving the room does not in fact cheer me up,” he calls out, and Harvey chuckles when he returns, holding a plastic bag that he holds out to him before sitting back down.

“I got you something,” he announces. “Go on, look inside.”

Mike doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Books?” he asks, raising his eyebrows as he takes them out.

“Legal ones, mostly. About the areas we’ve touched on so far that you seemed particularly interested in. I thought you might like to read up on them.”

“Oh my god, Harvey. Thank you. I… this is amazing.”

He looks through the handful of books, stopping at the last one.

“What’s this one for?”

“That’s for when you’re done with the rest. It can’t be all work, no pleasure. It just came out, so I trust that you haven’t read it yet.”

“No, I haven’t.” Mike lowers the books, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to say. This is- you didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, did it make you happy?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m glad I did.”

Mike sucks in his lip. He’s afraid that his voice is going to break if he attempts to speak, so he doesn’t and goes back to looking at the books, reading the descriptions more closely.

“This is really helpful. I was talking to Rachel about a case involving that today and she basically had to explain the whole thing to me. Made me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot. You’re doing really well, considering how short a time it’s been since you started. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Mike glances at him. “I know, it’s just- everyone around me knows their shit, whether it’s the lawyers or the paralegals or the secretaries. They’re all part of this working machine, and I’m just the new guy who needs to be taught everything because he never got his shit together. It makes me feel insecure, I can’t help it.”

“I know you don’t, darling. But you don’t make an effort to conquer it either.”

Mike frowns. “What do you mean?”

Harvey crosses his legs, holding out his hands.

“You came here, and you were assigned the role of the insecure new intern. That was out of your hands. Staying within the boundaries of that role was your choice, though. You identify with it, and you’re wearing it like an armor so people don’t expect too much. You can’t disappoint them like that, yes. But it also means that they are never going to expect much from you.”

Mike opens his mouth, then closes it again when he comes up with nothing.

“I don’t blame you for being insecure,” Harvey continues mercilessly. “But letting it show for everyone to see, that’s your decision.”

He’s right. Everything he’s saying is the truth, and he knows he means well, but all Mike is taking from this is that he has failed him. That all his fears have come true, that he’s truly not good enough, and Harvey has seen it all along.

“I’m sorry,” he says numbly. It’s the only thing he can think of.

Harvey shakes his head.

“Look, I get it if you’re not there yet, but you gotta fake it till you make it or you never will. Find a way to pretend, and even if you don’t believe it yourself, make sure everyone else does.”

He considers him, then leans in and holds his eyes.

“First impressions matter. But so do all the following impressions. If you present yourself as weak, they are going to treat you like you are. And you don’t want people to walk all over you, do you?”

“No, of course not. And I’m not trying to let them, it’s just- how do I know how to act accordingly? I wasn’t brought up in this world. I have no idea how to behave. This is all new to me.”

“Bullshit. Neither was I, and look at me. I made it. Do you think I enjoy getting cozy with all the assholes I have to work with on a daily basis? You think I like playing the role people expect of me all the damn time? I don’t. It bores me to death. But it needs to be done, so I do it.”

“It’s not about being bored for me,” Mike argues. “It’s different. If they already respected me, I- everyone here judges me, you know. They don’t take me seriously because they all just think I’m not-“

He cuts off before the end of that sentence can slip out, but Harvey doesn’t seem to have caught on.

“What does it matter if they don’t? They gossip all the time. They want to make their days more interesting with scandals and juicy stories and rumors, and when they can’t find any of those, they latch onto the next best thing. Which, right now, just happens to be you.”

“So you’re saying it’s not really about me and I should just stop worrying?”

“Pretty much. It’s not you they’re interested in, Mike. It’s the role you play. The question is, can you handle that? Can you figure out how to step out of that role so you can leave it behind and become someone they respect?”

Mike swallows. “I’ll try,” he vows. His words are painful, but maybe that’s what’s necessary. Maybe that’s what he needed to hear.

Harvey smiles at him, reaching for his hand to give it a squeeze. “I know you will.”

Mike swallows, looking down at their hands. The silence stretches as he hangs after his thoughts, only interrupted by Harvey’s soft voice when he says, “I wonder if I did a selfish thing when I asked you to marry me.”

Mike’s eyes snap up. “What?”

Harvey’s gaze moves over his face, narrowed in thought. “I’m not much of a companion to you, am I? Always working, even when I’m not. My head is somewhere else at any given moment. I haven’t been there to guide you when you’ve so clearly needed it.”

“Don’t say that,” Mike argues at once, shaking his head. “Of course you are a companion to me. You’re my partner. It’s been stressful, yeah, but I knew that’s how it was going to be when I came here. It’s still good, isn’t it? I mean, we’re happy, aren’t we?”

He barely gets the question out without choking on it, the fear of what the answer might be closing up his throat until he can’t breathe.

Harvey regards him quietly. “Are you?”

“Of course I am,” Mike says, ignoring the voice in his head reminding him of Scottie, of all the ways he feels inferior to her when she isn’t even here anymore.

None of that matters. He’s happy with Harvey, if not the situation, and he needs him to know that. Reaching for his hand, he presses a kiss to his knuckles, blinking up at him. “I love you.”

Harvey lets out a deep breath. “I know you do. But it’s still early. We’re going to have a lot to figure out as we go along.”

“But we will,” Mike assures him, squeezing his hand. “We’ll figure it out together. That’s what we do, right? We’ll just… keep doing it. It’s all good.”

“Yeah,” Harvey sighs. “I suppose it is. Maybe I’m seeing problems where there aren’t any. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m not here for you. You’re my guy, and if you need me, I don’t want you to have to think twice if I’m gonna be there or not.”

“I know that. And I really appreciate it. But it’s all fine.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’m going to do better. With how I present myself. I’ll work on it.”

He has no idea how, but he knows that he needs to, that he has to show Harvey that he can do it if he wants this to work.

“We’ll get there together,” Harvey says gently, and Mike nods more assuredly than he really feels.

“Together,” he agrees, gripping his hand like it will stop the pit in his stomach from growing. “Absolutely.”

He leans in to bring their lips together, kissing him again when Harvey follows as he draws back, and again, deeper this time. It’s reassuring and familiar, the only antidote to the strange trepidation that’s making his heart pound so heavily. He needs this, the closeness, the physical contact, and he’s glad that Harvey responds to it. Maybe he needs it too, maybe this will remind him how well they work together, how happy they actually are, that there’s no reason to regret any part of this.

He cups Harvey’s face, an urgent sound escaping him when he hums, his hand coming up to his waist.

“I want you,” Mike mutters against his lips, sighing when his hand slides down to his ass. “I need to be with you. Now.”

Harvey hums lowly in response, and the sound goes straight through him, making him deepen the kiss before he pulls back, his chest heaving with desire.

“Bedroom,” he asks, licking his lips when he finds his gaze. “Please.”

He’s never had to ask Harvey twice, and he doesn’t need to now.

Harvey rises from his chair, never letting go of him, and Mike is happy to stumble the whole way as he leads him to the bed if it means that he gets to keep kissing him.

*

It’s the following week that Harvey has to go on his first business trip since they returned from Switzerland.

“Cambridge?” Mike asks when he tells him, lifting an eyebrow. “I heard that’s nice. How long are you gonna stay?”

“I’m planning on four days, no more than five. I don’t want to leave the office for long so soon after our travels.”

“That’s not too bad. I think Manderley will survive a week without you. Especially with Rachel there.” Remembering their conversation from before, he adds, “And me, of course.”

Harvey chuckles. “That’s my boy,” he mutters as he scans his schedule. “Alright, this should work. Nothing that couldn’t be pushed back a week.”

“I’m sure Donna can work her magic, even if there is.”

“Naturally.”

He looks at the files spread out in front of him and sighs. “Well, I better get to this if I want it to be done by the time I leave.”

Mike nods, even though he’s a little put out by the fact that he won’t get to enjoy Harvey’s company while he’s still here, but he knows the work has to come first sometimes.

At least there’s nothing else occupying Harvey’s mind when he’s buried in files.

It’s strange to be at Manderley without him, despite the fact that they barely work together. The drive to the firm feels longer by himself, and Mike would take the comfortable silence between them over the small talk he strikes up with the driver as Manderley appears before them any day.

Rachel greets him with a smile when he enters her office with two cups of coffee – he has to stay in her good graces if he wants to keep using her space, after all – and the day unfolds before him like any other, just a little less exciting with the lack of possible calls from Harvey, asking him to come and work together.

He does get a text from him after lunch, a nice picture of the part of town he’s staying in and a line or two about the client meeting he attended. Mike would love to hear more about his day, but he’s probably busy enough without him blowing up his phone, so he leaves it at a goofy selfie from Rachel’s desk and a heart emoji that he knows will secretly make him smile.

The days drag on a little during his absence – he has too much to do to get bored, but the constant thought of what Harvey is doing right now is keeping Mike from actually focusing on it. He misses their nights spent together in the study, the mornings in bed when they’re both sleepy and warm and there’s nothing but the two of them for a few precious minutes, the quick hand jobs in the shower and the long, drawn-out lovemaking in the bedroom he can never get enough of. He misses talking to him, and hearing his voice, and seeing him smile, or touching him in passing, or finding his ties all over the chair in the bedroom…

“Pathetic,” he whispers to himself, but he can’t bring himself to really care, too busy with wallowing in his self-pity.

He ends up having to stay late at the office to get all his work done – he could take care of it at home, of course, but the empty apartment doesn’t hold much appeal, so he might as well stay here where there’s less distraction.

It surprises him how long some people stay. The firm is by no means empty, and it’s only when it’s way past eleven that he looks up and finds the bullpen deserted. His eyelids are getting heavier by the minute, and he’s about ready to go home too, but he’s so close to finishing what he’s working on that he fights the exhaustion just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he mutters when he realizes he’s missing one important file that he needs to finish up. Narrowing his eyes, he tries to remember where he last saw it. It must have been in Harvey’s office, just before he left. It’s probably still there.

Sighing, he pushes his chair back. He doesn’t expect it to be, but maybe he’s lucky and Harvey’s office is unlocked, or Donna is still there, or he put the file on her desk where he can just take it before he left.

It’s not on the desk, and the door is locked like he thought. He doesn’t know the code for the lock and so he turns with a sigh, halting in his tracks when a light catches his eye.

A light in Scottie’s office.

Now that he’s taking a closer look, he can see two shadows inside too.

Frowning, Mike glances down the hall before he decides to find out what’s happening. He pushes the door open, his mouth dropping when he finds Stephen Huntley in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Huntley looks up, his face falling for a split second before he straightens, offering an appeasing smile.

“Good evening, Mike. I was just-“

“Mike? The infamous Mike Ross?”

Mike’s eyes snap to the second man. He frowns, fairly certain that he’s seen him before, the square face, the scarce amount of hair that almost makes him look bald, but he can’t quite place him.

“The very one. And you are?”

His voice is steady despite the irrational pounding of his heart and the vague inkling that he just walked in on something he shouldn’t have seen despite having no idea what it is.

“My name is Edward Darby,” the man tells him. He takes a step forward. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Mike says, slowly looking between them. “Could someone explain to me what’s going on now?”

Huntley holds up his hands. “Nothing is going on. Nothing like what you’re imagining at least, I assume. I was merely looking for a book I remembered having left in here.”

“A book. And you needed that right now, did you? After hours, when- no one is here?”

Especially Harvey.

“It’s quite invaluable for the case we were discussing, I’m afraid. There’s really no need to get all… worked up.”

Mike presses his lips together, taking a deep breath. Any comments about how he isn’t worked up die on his lips unspoken, because he knows how defiant they would make him sound.

“Okay,” he says, nodding towards Darby. “And what is he doing in here? He couldn’t have waited outside?”

“I didn’t think it was going to be a problem. We were just coming in for a minute. I certainly didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

He lifts his eyebrows at the last part, like he’s asking Mike if he thinks that he did, almost as if he’s challenging him to something. He swallows, because truthfully, he doesn’t know if Huntley overstepped anything or if this is really just no big deal.

Even though the time he chose for this is still suspicious.

“How did you even get in here?” Mike asks, shaking his head.

“Scottie and I used to work together a lot. I must have seen her punch in the code a thousand times.”

Mike gnaws his lip. Sensing his hesitation, Huntley takes a step towards him and offers an apologetic smile.

“I honestly didn’t think it would be an issue. I certainly didn’t mean to cause any trouble. And I hope this won’t cause any… well, between you and Harvey.”

Mike’s eyes snap up. “Why would it?”

“Well, you know how he gets when he’s reminded of her. I’m sure you do better than anyone.” He lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “He does so hate to think about it. And who can blame him? It’s such a tragedy. I don’t know how you would ever get over something like this. Every time someone mentions her, it’s like… part of him just dies all over again.”

Mike swallows, dropping his gaze. “It’s not easy,” he mutters.

“Indeed.” Huntley sighs again. “Maybe it’s for the best if we don’t bother him with this. Unless you feel like he has to know, of course. I’ll leave it to you.”

Great. Mike exhales deeply.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he says reluctantly, pressing his lips together. “I was just surprised to see someone in here, that’s all. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” He turns to the shelf, and Darby politely steps next to Mike as if to signal that he doesn’t mean to intrude any further. Mike eyes him, but before he can figure out what to make of him, Huntley turns around.

“Ah, here it is.”

“Perfect.” Darby clasps his hands together. “Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid I must leave you to it now anyway. It’s gotten quite late.”

“Of course. I’ll show you out.”

He nods, then turns to Mike.

“Mr. Ross. I hope to see you again. I have to say, it’s quite refreshing to see a new face around here. And that of such a bright young man no less.”

Mike has barely talked to this guy, and he’s pretty sure that nothing he said today made him seem particularly bright, but he just forces himself to smile and nods.

Huntley holds the door open, and with a little wave Darby steps outside.

Mike watches them head towards the elevators, knowing that he should follow, but something is holding him back, the curiosity that getting to be in Scottie’s space evokes in him too strong to withstand. He hesitates, then steps further inside, allowing himself to take a real look around for the first time.

Everything looks eerily untouched, like someone froze this room in time several months ago and hasn’t returned since. It’s almost too easy to believe that Scottie has just stepped outside for a minute, with the books stacked on the desk, the post-it on the edge of the desk, the pen lying right where her hand must have been when she sat down to write something.

How many people have come in here since Scottie died? How long was this room undisturbed, like a shrine that no one’s allowed to visit?

“Tragic, isn’t it?”

Startling, he turns around to find Huntley in the doorway, his hands in his pockets as he looks at him.

“The remnants of a magnificent life, taken from the world too soon.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, clearing his throat when it comes out embarrassingly hoarse. “Yeah, I was just thinking that it’s so… it’s like she never left.”

“Isn’t it just.” Huntley sighs. “How I wish she hadn’t. It’s a shame you never met her, though I suppose you wouldn’t be here if you could have.”

Mike freezes at the words, hitting him like a physical blow. They’re profoundly true and profoundly terrifying, and he can’t do anything but take it, because Huntley is right. He never would have set foot in Manderley, never mind Harvey’s apartment, if Scottie was still around.

Huntley doesn’t seem to realize what he just said to Mike, or he just doesn’t care. “She was amazing,” he carries on like nothing happened. “I never met anyone else quite like her. One of the greatest people I have ever known. Certainly one of the smartest. And beautiful, it goes without saying. You’ve seen the pictures, of course.”

“Yeah,” Mike mutters tonelessly. “She was stunning.”

“The photos don’t do her justice, really. She had an air around her that made it so hard to resist her. Few tried. Even fewer succeeded.” He chuckles quietly, a faraway look in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“Such a loss. Not just personally, for everyone who knew her, but for Manderley as well. She ran this place. Harvey and she were a team, of course, but she’s the one who really reigned. And he was happy to let her, because she was bloody good at her job.” His gaze moves back to Mike’s face, boring into his eyes as he says, “They were so happy together. I can’t begin to imagine how one would get over a loss like that.”

Mike swallows. He can’t speak, can’t say a single word, knowing that his voice would break no matter what he tried to respond. He is helpless against the cold trepidation welling up in his stomach, clawing its way up his spine until it’s infiltrated every part of him.

“Anyway. Would you look at that.” Huntley nods at the clock. “Darby was right, it’s gotten quite late. I’m going to head out, get a few hours of sleep in before the daily grind starts again.”

He heads for the door, pausing with one hand on the handle.

“If you’re going to stay, just pull the door shut behind you.”

Mike swallows. “I’m not staying,” he says, flashing him the briefest of smiles as he walks past him, heading straight to the elevator without a look back.

“See you around, Mike,” Huntley calls after him.

He doesn’t hear his steps following, but Mike picks up his pace anyway. He can’t get out of there fast enough.

*

The sound of the key in the lock is like music to Mike’s ears.

He shuts his book at once, resisting the urge to jump up and greet Harvey at the door like some overeager puppy despite the fact that it’s all he wants to do.

Rationally he knows that it’s just been a few days, but since his unpleasant encounter with Huntley and Darby he has barely been able to focus on his work anymore, much less unwind afterwards. Which, to be fair, is pretty much the status quo for him since he came to Manderley, but the stress is still that much more bearable when Harvey is there by his side.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he greets him as he rises from the sofa, his lips pulling into the first real smile in days.

Harvey lifts an eyebrow, smiling too. “That’s how you welcome me home after a long and hard week apart? I should have stayed away.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“No, and I wouldn’t want to either.” He leans in for a brief but heartfelt kiss. “It’s good to see you,” he says when he draws back.

“And you.” Mike pecks his lips again for good measure before he sits back down. “You said you had a rough week? What happened?”

Harvey waves his hand. “Client wasn’t cooperating, ordered me all the way to Cambridge only to do the exact opposite of what I told him to, and proceeded to nearly lose his entire business in the span of a day.”

“Sounds fun.”

Rolling his eyes, Harvey agrees dryly, “You can’t imagine.” He sighs. “And on top of that I heard that someone I’m not very fond of paid the firm a visit while I was away.”

“Oh, really?” Mike scratches his neck. “Who?”

“Edward Darby,” Harvey says darkly. “The man is a menace. I have no idea what he wants, but it can’t be good. I’ve known him long enough to realize that there’s always trouble when he shows up.”

Mike gnaws his lip. He was still on the fence on whether to tell Harvey about the late-night encounter in Scottie’s office or not, but now it’ll just make him look untrustworthy if he discloses that he saw Darby and never thought to inform him. Besides, he already knows. No need to add salt to the wound.

Admittedly, it’s a bit of a relief not to have to bring it up. Huntley’s words still echo in his ears, the truth behind them leaving him faintly sick. The less he reminds Harvey of Scottie, the better.

“I’m sure that whatever it is, you can handle it,” Mike assures him, giving his hand a firm squeeze.

The corner of Harvey’s mouth lifts as he glances at him. “You’re right. There’s no point in wasting my time thinking about it. If he wants something, he’ll let me know soon enough, and in the meantime I have other things to worry about.” He sighs. “Especially with the gala coming up.”

The gala Mike almost managed to put out of his mind, until now.

Looking at him, Harvey raises an eyebrow. “How do you feel about that, by the way?”

“Me? Why are you asking?”

“Because it’s a big event, and it’ll be all about you.”

“What?” Mike snorts. “Why?”

“Because you’re my fiancé, and this is your first public appearance as such, at an event which is hosted by _your_ fiancé, at _his_ firm. It’ll be your official public debut, and it will be big. I just want you to be prepared for that.”

Mike laughs in disbelief. “You make it sound like we’re the royal family. We’re just a law firm.”

“So what? People care about these things. Besides, making connections is important in our field of work. It pays off to have someone remember your name fondly, or even better, owe you a favor. And all that starts with networking, which you can’t do unless people know you’re a player in the game. Hence the need to introduce yourself.”

“I… hadn’t actually thought of that.”

Sucking in his lip, Mike considers. The idea of parading around in front of some rich assholes pretending to give a shit about a good cause for one night doesn’t exactly thrill him, but what can he do? This is part of the work, so there’s nothing for it. He wants to prove himself to Harvey more than anything, and if this is what he has to get through to do that, then he will try his hardest to make those people like him.

So he smiles and tells him, “I think it’s gonna be fun.”

He’ll figure out the how later.

“It’ll be good to meet all the people you work with. And I think it’s going to be great for Manderley, and whatever cause Donna decides we’re supporting.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a good one,” Harvey agrees. Lifting an eyebrow, he adds, “And if you ask her nicely, she might let you have a say in the decision.”

“You think?”

Mike smiles, his mood immediately lifting at the idea. Forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind for now, he shakes his head and asks, “So how does this work? There’s a pretty strict dress code, right? Is there a motto or something that people should follow?”

“No, nothing like that. At least not this year. We had something like that once, but Donna is going to keep things simple this time around.” He looks him up and down. “Good thing you mention it, though. I’ll have to make you another appointment with my tailor. You’re going to need his help with finding something appropriate for the occasion.”

Mike lifts his eyebrows. “What, you think I can’t dress myself?”

“You forget that I live with you. I _know_ you can’t dress yourself.”

Mike’s jaw drops at the audacity. “Okay, you know what? I _am_ gonna take care of this myself, and it’s gonna be great. I’ll find an amazing outfit, and I won’t show you until the gala, and then you’re gonna have to admit how wrong you were about me.”

Harvey just lifts an eyebrow. “Are you sure you wanna do that?” he asks dryly.

“Oh, I am sure, mister. You just wait. You’ll get the surprise of your life when you see me.”

The smile Harvey gives him in response is entirely too indulgent. It only makes him more determined. “Very well, then. Just remember that you insisted on this.”

“Fine,” Mike agrees, crossing his arms.

Harvey seems to forget about their conversation as soon as it ends, taking out his phone to get back to his messages. Mike watches him quietly, and as the playfulness fades, there’s a part of him that’s left to wonder if it will always be like this. If Harvey will always be ahead of him somehow, with his periodic dark moods and the closed doors and the secrets Mike is never privy to.

He wonders what it will mean for him if the answer is yes.

What is his life going to look like if Harvey never lets him in? What kind of marriage are they going to have if this is as far as they get?

Mike has been trying so hard not to think about it, but it’s always there, at the corner of his eye, just close enough that he can feel it breathing down his neck, and eventually he’s going to have to face it.

What is he going to do then? Is he just going to be stuck inside this feeling of insufficiency forever?

There’s always the possibility of leaving, only that there isn’t, because Mike simply cannot picture his life without Harvey in it anymore. He knows that he’s going to stay no matter what. It may not be the wisest choice, or the healthiest, but it’s the only one for him. He knows that he’d rather be in a marriage with a Harvey who doesn’t talk to him than not be with Harvey at all.

He'll just have to try his hardest to not let it get to that, then. To get Harvey to open up to him, so they can really be together and move on from this rough patch that the past few weeks have been.

And this gala is his chance. He can prove himself, can show Harvey and everyone that he’s worthy. And he will.

This gala is going to change anything.


	6. Chapter 6

This gala is going to be the death of him.

Mike is stressed. Very stressed. He would like to pretend that he has everything under control, but he doesn’t.

The date looked so far away on the calendar, and he foolishly let it make him believe that he had all the time in the world to come up with a game-changing outfit. But now it’s less than two weeks away and he has come up with nothing, and slowly but surely panic is setting in.

Because Harvey wasn’t exactly wrong. He doesn’t know the first thing about fashion, and while he doesn’t consider his taste terrible, he knows that his choices leave much to be desired. So it probably wasn’t his smartest idea to try and take on Harvey goddamn Specter, whose first words to him were a remark about his tie. It’s ridiculous how much attention that man pays to fashion, really. In another life he would have been a model, or a designer.

The thought only makes Mike panic more. He needs _help._

He refuses to ask Donna on principle even though he really, _really_ wants to. It would be like cheating, and worse, Harvey would know that he’s been asking her and think he failed.

Which he is about to do, admittedly.

So he compromises and asks Rachel. At least Harvey won’t find out about that.

“What exactly do you want?” she asks, swiveling in her chair as he explains his predicament to her. “Do you need me to find you an outfit?”

“No, no, don’t pick anything for me. I want to do that myself. I just… don’t know where to start, so a little inspiration would be really, really nice.” He shakes his head. “Like, I don’t know. What are _you_ wearing?”

Rachel laughs. “First of all, I don’t think you should base your outfit on that. You’re being introduced as Harvey’s fiancé, not mine. Also, I’m fairly sure you aren’t going to wear a dress, so telling you won’t be of much help.”

Mike crosses his arms. “I would rock a dress,” he mutters.

“If only the world was ready for that. I don’t really know what to tell you though. I think if you want inspiration, the best place to start is the pictures from our previous galas. There’s a few online, but I can send you the rest of them if you want.”

_Want_ is an overstatement, but Mike nods anyway because it’s all he has to go on. “Thank you. That would be really helpful.”

He has the pictures by lunchtime and promptly skips the meal, staying behind in the mostly empty bullpen to look through them. Not that it’s doing much to inspire him, despite the sheer amount of men in the photos. All their clothes are just so… generic. The only thing standing out about them is how expensive they look. The notepad he put next to his laptop stays empty except for the rather obvious _wide tie_ he put down after the first few pictures.

“Does Cinderella still need a dress for the ball?”

He startles and turns around, coming face to face with a Stephen Huntley whose smile is a little too amused for his taste.

His first instinct is to deny it, but Huntley isn’t stupid, and the pictures and the notepad are pretty damning evidence.

“I’m just… looking for inspiration.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

Mike sighs. “Not at all, to be honest.”

Huntley’s eyes linger on Mike’s tie, and it takes all his restraint not to touch it and give away how self-conscious it makes him feel.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. I just want something that will impress Harvey,” he admits. He wants to impress everyone at the gala, of course, but he knows that they’re all going to judge him anyway no matter what, and the only one he really cares about is Harvey. “I told him that I’d find something special and surprise him, which buys me at least a little more time because he won’t ask to see it before the gala, but if I don’t find something soon that’s not going to save me.”

“Well, why don’t you draw inspiration from the man himself then?”

“I mean, that sounds good in theory, but I can’t just go and copy his looks, can I?”

Huntley watches him like a hawk. “No one said anything about copying. And maybe you don’t need to go for what he’s wearing. You could use what he almost wore and go from there.”

Mike frowns, and Huntley opens his mouth, then hesitates and shakes his head. “You know what, never mind. It was a silly idea. I’ll let you get back to-“

“No, no, wait,” Mike hurries to say, holding out his hands. “What are you talking about? Explain.”

Huntley regards him, then leans in. “Two years ago, Harvey had a couple of different designs to choose from. Gorgeous, all of them. It was no wonder he couldn’t choose. He only made his decision at the last minute, but the ones that didn’t make the cut are still lying around somewhere. I know there’s one in particular he was quite smitten with, and if you saw it you’d understand why – beautiful, pure art.”

“How do you know all that?” Mike asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I have my sources,” Huntley tells him cryptically. “What’s more, I happen to know where the pattern is. If you’re interested in sneaking a peek…”

Oh, he is. This is a temptation of biblical proportions, the forbidden apple dangling right in front of him and all he has to do is reach out.

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t be my own,” he says, but it sounds like a weak excuse. He wants to use the pattern, and Huntley knows it.

“Who says it has to be?” he asks, lifting his shoulders. “There is nothing new under the sun. Why not impress Harvey by showing him how alike you are instead? By appreciating his style and, with just a little tweak here and there, making it your own?”

Mike sucks in his lip, but his resistance is already crumbling. Huntley may not be the most likeable man, but he’s a damn good lawyer. And he’s helping Mike out here. He has to appreciate that.

“Okay, you know what? I’m in. Could you show it to me?”

“You’ll have it on your desk this afternoon,” Huntley promises with a wink. “You’ll blow his mind when he first lays eyes on you, believe me.”

True to his word, he drops off a folder later, and Mike immediately stops what he’s doing to take a look at the contents.

“Wow,” he mutters involuntarily, because yeah, he gets it now.

The pattern is breathtaking.

Even to him, someone who doesn’t know the first thing about fashion, it looks incredible. The bronze and gold weave together beautifully on the black background, far from how obnoxious he’d expect the combination to be. It’s classy, and it speaks of wealth and status, but respectfully, in a graceful way. The longer he looks at it, the more details he sees, different shades and little tweaks that make the pattern come alive.

This could actually suit him. It might even make the dirty blond of his hair look good.

If the choice is between absolutely nothing of his own creation and this, Mike knows what he’s going to pick. Even though he didn’t come up with it himself, this will still show Harvey that he can, in fact, dress well. And maybe he really will see how alike they are too. That he’s worthy of his time and commitment, just like Scottie was.

He considers calling Harvey’s tailor, but ends up looking for a different one, because this at least he can do by himself. He finds a website that looks promising and, after a quick call, ends up with an appointment the following night.

For once it’s a good thing that Harvey is working late – this way Mike can take a trip into the city and return without him even knowing that he was gone.

He has no idea what Harvey keeps working on that makes him stay at the office so late. It’s not like he can’t do his work at home – he does, frequently. ‘Paperwork’ is what he told Mike when he asked once, going through god knows what files without ever seeming to get anywhere, clearly unwilling to say more on the matter. He has long stopped asking.

Mike has accepted that he can’t help Harvey with that. Especially if he doesn’t let him. What he _can_ help him with is the part that comes afterwards.

It didn’t take him long to notice that, while Harvey has a habit of unwinding after work with a book, more often than not he struggles to actually focus on it, never mind relax. That one time Mike read to him really seemed to help, and he has since made it his mission to accumulate a selection of texts that cater to Harvey’s interests, be it literature, articles about baseball, or something else he stumbled upon and thought he might like to hear about.

The surprised smile on Harvey’s face when he started reciting something the first time he noticed his eyes drooping made him feel warm all over, and he can’t wait to do the same thing for him again tonight, safe in the knowledge that this is a time just for them, untouched by anyone else. There’s something deeply intimate about those moments, about Harvey looking at him as he listens to his voice, holding his gaze for so long that Mike forgets that there is anything else in the world.

“You’re so good to me,” Harvey said that first time, the softness in his voice as he regarded him making his chest ache in the best possible way, and Mike thought it was a funny thing to say because he wasn’t really doing anything, but if that’s how Harvey felt, he sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with him.

Who knows, maybe he’ll even get to hear something like it again.

That would be really, really nice.

*

It’s a relief to finally get ahead with his outfit for the gala.

The tailor he found proves to be a good choice. It’s irrationally validating to see how approving she is of the pattern. The fabric needs to be specifically made, of course, and with time being of the essence – and Mike being more than a little uncomfortable spending all of Harvey’s money – he decides on a standard suit and shirt, the pattern serving as the sole eyecatcher on his tie, pocket square, and cuffs.

The tailor promises to call as soon as the clothes are ready, and two days before the gala Mike gets to admire his outfit in its full glory.

“Wow,” he whispers as he looks at himself in the mirror, well aware of his dropping mouth, but it’s the last thing he cares about right now.

“Charming, isn’t it?” the tailor agrees, straightening the fabric here and there as she rounds him. “Look at you. Such a dashing young man.”

Mike flushes. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that about me before,” he mutters, his eyes glued to his reflection. She’s right, though. Like this, he looks… confident. Like someone to be taken seriously, who knows what he wants and is not afraid to get it.

He looks like the person he wants to be. The person he thinks would make Harvey proud to marry.

“Well, no one’s ever seen you in my clothes before. And neither have you. Look at yourself. You’re already wearing them differently.”

“I know.” He laughs quietly. “This is amazing work. Thank you so much.”

“It’s you who chose the pattern,” she points out. “I was just filling in the blanks. You did this, Mr. Ross.”

He did. Turning around, he looks at himself over his shoulder, unable to help the smile on his lips.

He looks tall. He looks proud. He looks worthy of Manderley, at long last.

If he could, he would never take these clothes off again. As it is, he drags his feet as long as he can before he has to regretfully hand them over. The tailor says she’ll have the final tweaks done by tomorrow, and he barely manages to fall asleep that night, too excited to get his hands on it.

He even looks forward to the gala now – all the people he’ll have to meet, all the strangers who might judge him, he doesn’t care anymore. Let them see him in his outfit, by Harvey’s side, in Manderley. Let them draw their conclusions. It doesn’t matter. He’ll know that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. Where he belongs.

“Someone’s excited,” Harvey comments when he bounces around the room while he gets ready. The last few hours before the gala have passed all too slowly, and Mike is more than ready to finally get a move on.

“I am. Aren’t you?”

The answer is clear by just looking at him, the twist around his thin lips, the lines on his forehead that are a little too pronounced.

“This whole thing is a show. Everyone’s pretending, no one really gives a shit, and there are cameras following you around all evening to make sure you play your part right.” He shrugs. “I’m just not really in the mood for it tonight.”

Mike purses his lips, then elbows him teasingly. “You’re just not in the mood to lose our bet, admit it.”

He’s relieved to see the corner of Harvey’s mouth lifting. “That’s yet to be decided,” he says, smoothing down his jacket before he turns around. “You’re quite sure of yourself for someone who’s currently in his sleeping clothes.”

“It’s to throw you off,” Mike informs him. “I’m not going to spoil anything.”

Harvey chuckles. “Whatever makes you happy.”

He checks his phone when it buzzes, then sighs. “Alright, that’s my car. You sure you don’t wanna come with me?”

“No, you go ahead. I’ll meet you at the firm.”

There’s no way in hell he’s giving up his grand entrance. He wants to savor the moment Harvey sees him for the first time. It will be like an actual, real-life Cinderella story. Life may not usually play out like a fairytale, but tonight it will. Tonight will be just perfect.

“If that’s what you want.” He checks his reflection one last time, then squares his shoulders and lets out a deep breath. “I’ll see you there then.”

Mike nods. He accepts the quick peck he places on his lips, then calls out, “Harvey?”

He turns around. “Yes?”

“Smile. It’s going to be a good night.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “With you there, how couldn’t it?”

Mike snorts. “Get out.”

He rolls his eyes when Harvey smirks before turning to go, doing a poor job of concealing his own smile. As soon as the door shuts he jumps up, rushing to the study where he hid his outfit, just in case Harvey went looking for it.

Unzipping the bag, he admires the sight before wriggling out of his clothes and getting dressed.

It feels distantly like putting on armor, despite the fact that this is a lot more elegant and a lot less heavy – Mike is ready for battle, to face anything that comes his way tonight. He’ll show everyone just how wrong they were about him, that he’s right in standing where Scottie once stood.

He’s got this. He’s ready.

He glances at the clock, pursing his lips. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, but a fashionable lateliness for dramatic effect is non-negotiable.

He lasts ten more minutes before his impatience gets the better of him and he calls himself a cab, enjoying the pleasant prickle of anticipation in his belly. He probably should have eaten something, but he couldn’t even think about food. Besides, he saw the menu for tonight – there’ll be plenty to eat later on.

The ride to Manderley takes forever. He taps his thigh repeatedly, bouncing his leg so much that he’s glad Harvey isn’t there to scold him for it.

He takes a deep breath to calm his fluttering nerves when he finally steps out of the car, smoothing down his clothes several times before he realizes that his sweaty palms aren’t exactly helping the situation.

Manderley looks different tonight. He’s been here before after dark, but hardly ever turned to look back on it as he was leaving. He forgets sometimes, with this being his reality now, how impressive the old walls look. They stand silent and strong, as they have for years and will for many more to come. It’s haunting in a way, but beautiful all the same, especially now, with the windows alight from the inside, the headlights guiding the way to the entrance, leading him to the finest attorneys in the country.

Mike can’t yet hear it, but he can feel the life inside the halls, the vibration of laughter and music and voices. He takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, smooths down his tie one last time, and steps into it.

From the second he walks through the doors he gets caught up in the rush. The hall is shining, a multitude of details catching his attention everywhere at once. There’s music in the background, and a pleasant fragrance in the air, and a glamorous shimmer lighting up the room. Donna has really outdone herself with the decorations, turning a law firm into a noble and prestigious hall effortlessly, but Mike only gets to admire them briefly before his attention is diverted.

Because people are staring at him.

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the face they recognize or the clothes he’s wearing, but he’s very aware of being looked at all of a sudden, of being _seen_. It’s exhilarating, and frightening, and Mike doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he makes his way through the hall, searching for the one person that really matters, that will calm his nerves with a single smile or a hand on his back.

And then he sees Harvey. He has his back turned to him, talking to one of the waiters, not yet noticing him. Mike bites his lip at the anticipation flooding him and, trying to suppress his smile, makes a beeline for him.

He can hear his voice carrying over to him over the music, the familiar sound grounding him amidst all the strange people and foreign noises.

Taking a second to compose himself, he relishes the prickling in his stomach before schooling his features into a neutral expression.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Harvey turns around, and Mike can’t help but grin, lifting an expectant eyebrow as he holds out his hands.

This is the moment he’s been waiting for. He thought about it so many times, pictured a surprised smile, an appreciative look, a few humble words conceding his defeat, anything.

But what he’s met with instead is silence.

It’s not the good kind of silence, he realizes quickly. It’s deafening, high-strung with a tension he doesn’t quite understand.

Shifting his weight, he drops his hands, suddenly self-conscious. One glance at Harvey’s shocked face is enough for him to understand that something has gone wrong.

Because Harvey looks _ashen_.

He seems frozen in place, caught mid-movement before something passes over his face, a shadow of disbelief bordering on outrage that quickly changes to a deep, profound hurt. It almost looks like betrayal, but before Mike can make sense of it he strides up to him and grips his arm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, his fingers digging into Mike’s flesh painfully. He doesn’t think he’s even aware of it. “What were you thinking? Why would you do this to me?”

Mike sucks in a sharp breath. “I- do what?” He blinks at him, shaking his head. “I don’t understand. What-”

Harvey lets go abruptly, turning away.

“Go,” he says, not looking at him. “Change.”

“Go?” he repeats, dumbfounded. “Harvey-“

“Mike, leave. _Now_.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. He doesn’t think he has ever heard his voice this cold before.

Mike stares at him, unable to move. He catches Rachel’s eyes over Harvey’s shoulder, distantly realizes that she looks shocked too, but he can’t process it, can’t make sense of any of it. Nothing seems real, the cheery music playing in the background, the chatter of the strangers around them, the clinking of silverware somewhere behind him.

Nothing except Harvey turning away from him in disgust. He looks like Mike hit him, and he takes an involuntary step back, recoiling from the realization that he did this to him, that he’s done something terrible and, from this point on, things will never be the same again.

A wave of nausea crashes over him, Harvey’s rejection the only thing registering anymore, and Mike does the only thing he can.

He turns around and runs.

The music is too loud, even over the sound of his feral heart, the crowd distinctly oppressive, pulling him down like a physical weight until he can’t breathe. Someone is calling his name, but he doesn’t stop, only knowing that he needs to get out of here.

He has nowhere to go, he realizes as he pushes past the people in his way, no goal in mind, and so he takes the first turn ahead, not caring where it leads him as long as it’s somewhere else.

He ends up in one of the file rooms, punching in the combination like his life depends on it, and it’s only when he stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by sudden, eerie silence and the almost blinding fluorescent light, that he comes to an abrupt halt. His heart is racing, his chest heaving, the blood rustling in his ears, his legs twitching with the instinctive need to run, but there’s nowhere to run to, no place he could go that would provide shelter.

It’s over. This is it.

His knees buckle at the finality of the thought, and he decides he might as well sit down right then and there, his expensive suit be damned. It doesn’t matter now anyway.

Leaning against the nearest shelf, he sinks to the floor, staring ahead without really seeing anything. His heart won’t stop pounding, a dull thud echoing in his ears, his incomprehension at what happened blocking every thought, leaving his mind running on the spot.

He tenses when he hears footsteps approaching, but the clicking of heels tells him that it’s definitely not Harvey following him. He didn’t expect him to, anyway.

It’s Rachel who steps into the room, the pity in her eyes as they fall on the pathetic heap he must make for making him want to curl up and hide forever.

“Mike.”

“Leave me alone.”

She doesn’t, instead closing the door behind her, taking a few steps towards him before she sinks to the floor.

“Are you alright?” she asks quietly.

Mike lets out a humorless laugh. “Do I look alright?”

She doesn’t respond, and he shakes his head, pressing his lips together.

“I don’t- I don’t know what the hell just happened. I’ve never seen him look at me like that, or anyone. It was like I betrayed him. I don’t understand.”

He blinks up at her, desperate. “You looked at me like that too. What the hell did I do wrong?”

Rachel lets out a deep breath.

“The design you’re wearing,” she explains, “it’s Scottie’s. She created it. It looks a little different, granted, but… where did you even get this from?”

“What?” Mike stares at her, shaking his head in incomprehension. “What do you mean this is _her design_? I thought- Huntley gave this to me. He said Harvey had wanted to wear this a while ago. I’m- oh, god. I… I had no idea. I swear, I had no idea, if I’d known-“

“I know,” Rachel cuts him off, nodding. “Of course you didn’t. This is- I don’t know what Huntley was trying to achieve with this, but it’s not your fault.” She sucks in her lip, then explains, “She always came up with her own designs for special events like that.”

So her clothes weren’t designer like Mike suspected, they were her own creation.

Somehow that’s even worse.

“This one, she was… really proud of. And it’s quite something, isn’t it? I mean, of course it is, otherwise you wouldn’t have chosen it. She ended up not going with it, some last-minute change of plans I think. But even though she never wore it, that pattern is so… her.” She exhales slowly. “For a second, it was just like…”

The end of the sentence hangs in the air between them. Mike doesn’t need her to finish to hear it loud and clear.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers, burying his face in his hands as he shakes his head. “Oh, god. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. Mike. It’s alright. Come on, look at me.”

Mike drops his hands, not bothering to wipe the tears away.

“It’s alright,” Rachel repeats calmly. “No one believes that you knew.”

“Harvey does,” he whispers.

She shakes her head.

“It was a mistake. He’ll understand, as soon as you explain to him what happened. It’s going to be okay. Just come with me. We’ll get you changed. It won’t be a big deal.”

“I can’t go back out there. I can’t- I can’t face Harvey. God,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “He must hate me.”

The thought hits him like a gut punch, and he sucks in a sharp breath, Harvey’s reproachful _why would you do this to me_ echoing in his head until he presses his hands against his eyes in an attempt to block it out.

“That’s bullshit,” Rachel tells him, her voice gentle but firm. “He could never hate you, Mike. He loves you.”

Does he, though?

It almost makes him laugh. How tragic is it that Mike really doesn’t know the answer to that question? He knows Harvey cares for him, of course. But love?

Maybe he could have gotten there, once. But that’s over now. Mike just ruined any chances of that thoroughly. After the way Harvey looked at him, he can’t see how they’d ever come back from this.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says tonelessly, lowering his hands in resignation. “Even if he doesn’t hate me, which I highly doubt, I just put him on the spot. People saw me in this outfit, Rachel. They’ll talk. Everyone will know. This was supposed to be my great debut as Harvey’s fiancé, and I made a complete fool of myself _and_ him.”

“That’s not true, Mike. I was there, and I don’t think many people who were familiar with the design saw you. You were there for barely a minute. And it’ll look much worse if you don’t come back out, believe me.”

She has a point. But that doesn’t mean Mike is anywhere near ready to do that.

“It’s going to be alright,” Rachel keeps assuring him, squeezing his arm. “I can find you something else to wear. You just need a new tie and jacket. We’ll get you changed in no time.”

He sniffs, swallowing a few times to clear his voice. “I don’t want to go back out there,” he mutters. “I can’t.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to go right now. You just take a few minutes to yourself, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t worry, alright? Just- deep breaths. Try not to cry any more, or your eyes will be puffy.”

He nods miserably even though he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep that promise, looking after her as she hurries outside.

He thought being alone was what he wanted, but now that it’s just him and his spiraling thoughts he isn’t so sure about that anymore.

It all makes sense now. Horrible, terrifying sense. He doesn’t know what Huntley got out of this, why he made him do this, but at least he understands now why Harvey looked at him the way he did.

He doesn’t blame him in the slightest.

He understands now, but somehow that only makes it worse. Because the level he hurt Harvey on is one he can barely fathom, never mind figure out how to get back from. The damage is done. Rachel can bring him a brand-new suit and he can go out there and smile and talk to people like nothing happened, but it still did. Nothing can undo that.

He knows she’s right. It will only get worse if he doesn’t go back out, but he wonders if Harvey will see it that way too. If he will appreciate him putting on his best fake smile or if he’ll wish he’d just stayed gone.

He doesn’t think he could bear it if Harvey turned him away.

But it’s a risk he has to take. If he’s ever going to make amends, that’s where he has to start.

Rachel is gone for a while. Mike has no idea where she’s even getting a change of clothes from, but by the time she returns with her arms full the tears have stopped, giving way to a hollow numbness spreading in his chest.

“This is the best I could find, but I think the size will work. And here’s your tie.”

Mike blinks at the bland colors, a stark contrast to what he’s wearing now. It’s probably for the best. He wants to be as invisible as he can be. “Thank you,” he tells her, clearing his throat when his voice croaks. “I really appreciate it, Rachel.”

“Don’t even mention it. Is there anything else you need?”

“I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Rachel gives him a sympathetic smile before she turns and leaves to give him some privacy.

Mike sniffs and takes off his jacket, dropping it without another look. He’d burn it right then and there if he could. The new jacket is a little too wide around the shoulders, but it will work. Tearing at his tie, he finally gets it off and, resisting the urge to rip it to shreds, drops it too and fixes the new one.

All dressed again, he wipes his nose and gets up. He doesn’t feel remotely ready to face the people outside, but he has a role to play, and he will play it, no matter what things are like between him and Harvey. He owes him that much.

Glancing at the clothes on the floor, he decides to gather them up right now and put them in the nearest trash can. The sooner he is rid of them, the better.

It takes all of his willpower to open the door and walk back out, but he closes his eyes and forces himself to go through with the motions before he can change his mind.

Everything after that is a haze. A long, tiring haze of greetings and small talk and smiles that he hopes don’t look as plastered on as they feel, of desperately avoiding Harvey’s gaze without being obvious about it. He meets Edward Darby again, and Jessica Pearson, and can’t recall a word either of them said to him afterwards. He sees Huntley in a corner and turns around, keeping away from him at all costs. He holds on to the same glass of champagne the entire night, the mere thought of putting something in his stomach making him sick.

He doesn’t remember much from his first gala at Manderley, and maybe that’s for the best. It’s the only way he can make himself get through it.

At least Harvey doesn’t send him away. He needn’t have worried about that. He never speaks to him, barely even acknowledges his existence. He never touches him. They stand beside one another, host and host, fiancé and fiancé, but they might as well be strangers. They are side by side, but they are not together, and Mike feels every inch of the gulf between them acutely.

The night might just be the longest of his life. There’s no getting out early for him. He’s the host, or with him at least, and so he stays and smiles and chats until the last guest has found their way outside. The night was a real success, as far as the cause they’re supporting goes, but Mike can’t even bring himself to care. He just wants to go home.

He sighs in relief when Harvey’s driver enters the building.

“Mr. Specter?”

“Lucas. Please take Mike home.”

He nods curtly. Mike swallows. “You’re not coming?”

“I have things to take care of,” he says without looking at him. “Don’t wait up.”

The lump in his throat makes it impossible to speak. Thankfully Harvey doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

Following Lucas outside, Mike spends the entire drive home trying to hold back his tears. He goes straight to bed when he arrives at the apartment, feeling its emptiness like a physical sensation. He pulls the covers up to his chin, shutting his eyes until they stop burning. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to rest, but he’s determined to pretend to be asleep whenever Harvey comes home.

Turns out he needn’t have worried about that. He never does.

*

He must have fallen asleep at some point, but it can’t have been for long. When Mike opens his eyes, he immediately knows that he’s still alone without having to see the other side of the bed.

He rolls over anyway, staring at the empty space as his chest contracts tightly.

This whole mess doesn’t look any better in daylight. He fucked up, and Harvey’s absence is all the proof he needs that it’s still fucked up and nothing he can do will fix it.

And all this during the gala, of all times. The gala that was supposed to be his grand introduction, something special, the official start of their bright future together.

What a tragic way to rip them apart.

Mike can’t even blame Huntley for the ruins he’s standing in. He still wants to know why he did what he did, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. What matters is that the seed was planted already, that their relationship was nothing but a pretense, and now that it’s all over he can finally admit that to himself.

It was sick from the start, poisoned by her-who-must-not-be-named, always keeping them from getting close enough. They were far from untouchable, and Huntley took advantage of that. And if it hadn’t been him, then someone else would have torn them apart. Maybe even Mike himself, without any outside help, taking one wrong step and ruining everything.

Harvey never would have married him. He supposes it’s a good thing that they never got around to setting a date, that there are no arrangements they have to cancel and people that need to be uninvited.

It’s easier this way. No loose ends to tie up.

He almost wants to laugh at that thought. Nothing about all this is easy.

Shutting his eyes, he presses his lips together and takes a deep breath. The tightness of his chest makes it hard, but he forces the air into his lungs anyway, trying to focus on that rather than how miserable he is.

It doesn’t work.

He finally drags himself out of bed when his bladder won’t let him ignore it any longer. Going through the motions of preparing himself a cup of coffee – not because he particularly wants one, mostly just to have something to do – he lingers in the kitchen, clinging to the steaming cup like it holds all the answers as he stares ahead.

It doesn’t, of course. But he knows someone who might.

Reaching for his phone, he tries to ignore the lack of messages from Harvey and goes straight for Donna’s number.

She picks up after the first ring.

“Mike.”

He can hear in her voice that she knows what happened. She must have seen him, or Harvey told her, or someone else whispered about it and she overheard, but either way, she knows. He wonders how many other people do, despite Rachel telling him that barely anyone saw him last night.

Not that it matters. Harvey did. Anything else is inconsequential.

“Hey, Donna.”

“How are you?”

He lets out a deep breath. “Fine. Listen, I’m… I know this is… Harvey didn’t come home last night. I was just wondering if you know where he is.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I haven’t heard from him.”

“Oh. Okay. Nevermind then.”

“Have you tried reaching him?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like he would pick up.”

“Mike…”

“It’s fine,” he lies, shutting his eyes as if it could shield him from the reality of his situation. “It’s all been leading up to this anyway. He’s never going to forgive me, and now it’s over and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Come on, Mike. It’s not that bad.”

A hollow laugh escapes him. “Trust me, Donna. It’s bad.”

She sighs, but doesn’t disagree. “You can’t honestly believe that he thought you did this on purpose,” she argues instead.

“He did, though. I saw it in his eyes. Before he stopped looking at me all night, of course.” He lets out a shaky breath. “It doesn’t matter. I should have known. I should have seen it coming. This entire engagement was a failure. I just didn’t want to admit it before.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“He regrets it, that’s what I’m talking about. Because he still loves her.”

He doesn’t say her name. There’s no need to.

Donna sounds genuinely shocked. “What?”

“He still loves her, Donna. He hasn’t forgotten her, he hasn’t moved on. He’s still… so goddamn in love with her. She’s everywhere. It’s always Scottie, Scottie, Scottie.” He huffs. “He never loved me. It’s always her.”

“Mike, if you really think that- you know what, where are you? Let me come to you. We’ll talk about this, and-“

“Don’t bother,” Mike cuts her off, rubbing his eyes wearily. “I don’t really want company right now.”

“Mike, I really think you should-“

“Just forget it, Donna. And if you hear from Harvey, just tell him… actually, nevermind. Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hangs up before she can respond and slides the phone into his pocket.

Leaving his coffee on the counter – he wasn’t going to drink it anyway – he moves to the sofa, trying to keep himself busy with work and then a bit of mindless reality TV. It somehow makes him feel worse, because he can’t stop thinking about what Harvey would say if he were here to watch it with him, how he would make fun of it and grin at Mike’s bad impressions.

The real extent of what he lost hits him with full force, and Mike has to turn the TV off as he pulls his knees to his chest and tries to block out the sudden onslaught of emotions. He feels the grief for this new life acutely, and the grief for his old one beneath that until he can barely breathe. He misses his grandmother deeply today, yearning so much for the comfort of her embrace, for the opportunity to just talk to her.

He may have felt lonely at times, but he was never alone while he was with Harvey. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was something. It was companionship. It was a warm bed to get into every night and someone to hold him when he needed it.

He is alone now. There is no one left, and that hurts more than he can stomach.

But what else is there to do?

The bleak morning bleeds into an equally bleak afternoon. Mike forces some cereal down around lunchtime, using Harvey’s favorite almond milk in a far-fetched attempt at feeling closer to him.

The hours drag on without him. Mike tries to use the time to think of what he wants to say when he finally gets home, but no matter what he comes up with, it always feels entirely inadequate.

When it’s almost dinnertime and Harvey still hasn’t shown up, he begins to worry. He doesn’t expect him to talk to him, or want to spend time with him, but complete radio silence isn’t like him. He could at least send a text, let him know that he needs time or whatever the hell is keeping him from coming home.

It’s Mike who finally breaks the silence and texts him first.

_Where are you?_

He ponders over the small sentence way too long and eventually just hits send. He waits, and waits, and pretends it doesn’t sting when he never gets a response.

When the sun begins to set, he decides that he’s had enough. He doesn’t look forward to the confrontation any more than Harvey evidently does, but they still need to get it over with at some point. If he won’t come home, then he’ll just have to go looking for him.

His first stop – and the only one he has in mind, really – is Manderley. He pulls his jacket tighter around himself when he stands in front of it, gazing up at the darkened windows.

It’s late, and it’s a Saturday night, so it’s no surprise that the building is deserted, but it gives him a sense of eerie desolation all the same. Where the premises were full of life last night, they are devoid of any sound now, standing almost too still, like a lifeless body whose soul has long moved on.

_Like a tomb_, he thinks, trying to shake the uncomfortable thought, but it sticks with him as he enters the building, blinking against the automatic lights.

There’s no one around, not a single sound to be heard except his own heavy footfall, dragging, reluctant. He passes dark offices, the empty bullpen, looking for any sign of life, but it’s just him and the echoes of last night he thinks he can still hear.

Harvey is nowhere to be found – not that Mike expected him to sit around in the bullpen, but he still makes it a point to check everywhere, hoping that he might find him unexpectedly in the partner kitchen or the same file room he was hiding in yesterday. He doesn’t.

He’s not in his office either. Deflating, Mike turns to go, halting when he notices a light on the other side of the hall.

Scottie’s office.

Coming closer, he lifts his hand to knock, but changes his mind at the last second and just opens the door quietly.

Harvey doesn’t look up. He doesn’t even seem to have heard him, and Mike swallows before he clears his throat.

Only then he raises his eyes. “Mike,” he says, sounding surprised. There’s something distant in his voice, but at least he can’t hear any contempt behind it.

“Hey. Sorry, I’m… I texted you,” he offers, lifting his shoulders. “I was getting worried.”

“Oh. I haven’t checked my phone,” Harvey mutters absently.

So he wasn’t ignoring him on purpose. That’s something.

Gathering all his resolve, Mike steps closer to the desk. “Listen, I know I- I just need to tell you. I am so, so sorry, Harvey.” 

He looks up, a faraway look in his eyes when they fall on his. “What for?” he asks, genuinely confused.

Mike blinks. “The… gala?”

“Oh, right. I was mad at you, wasn’t I?” He waves his hand. “It’s fine. You’re forgiven.”

His voice is off, and there’s an expression in his eyes that is deeply unsettling the longer he looks at it.

“What’s going on?” Mike asks slowly.

Harvey chuckles. It sounds wrong. Very, very wrong. “Something’s always going on, isn’t it? It never, ever stops. We can’t run from it. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

Mike frowns. “What are you talking about?”

When he doesn’t respond, he takes a step forward. “Harvey, please. Something’s the matter, I can tell.”

Harvey keeps his silence, and the longer it stretches, the more desperate Mike gets. “Just talk to me,” he pleads. “Whatever it is, I want to help. Please, just… just let me in.”

He’s down to begging, but he doesn’t care. It’s a Hail Mary shot, and if this doesn’t work then nothing ever will.

Something about the tone of his voice must have gotten through to him, because Harvey looks up and meets his eyes, the expression on his face weirdly intense when he asks, “How much do you love me?”

Taken aback, Mike blinks. “I- what?”

Harvey furrows his brow, then shakes his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. We lost our little chance at happiness.”

It’s the same thing Mike’s been thinking since the disaster of last night, but hearing it from Harvey triggers a primal instinct to disagree in him, to fight what he rationally knows to be true. It makes it all too real, like it’s final, and he can’t accept that, he won’t, not when Harvey is sitting before him like this, making less and less sense the more he talks to him.

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Don’t say that.”

Harvey’s lips curve upwards. Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen a smile so devoid of any joy. “Alright. I won’t. It makes no difference. It’s all over anyway.”

“Why are you saying that? What the hell is going on, Harvey?”

The smile vanishes from his face. His eyes search Mike’s, their intensity a sharp discord to the hollowness of his voice when he says, “You wanna know what’s going on? Scottie has won. That’s what’s going on. She has won, and nothing we can do will change that now.”

It’s jarring to hear her name from Harvey’s lips for the first time, but not as jarring as the sentiment he’s expressing.

It makes no sense. Mike doesn’t understand a damn thing.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have seen it coming,” Harvey mutters like he didn’t hear him. Maybe he really didn’t. “Her shadow was always there, from the minute I laid eyes on you. How could I hold you, be with you, when it was right around the corner all the damn time, threatening to destroy this new life with you that I wanted so much? I expected it, I feared it, and now it’s happening, and still I’m not prepared.” He laughs hollowly. “It’s like I can _see_ her smiling right now. Happy because she’s finally won, at long last.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Mike whispers.

Harvey lowers his eyes, and for the first time Mike notices the files on the desk before him.

“What is that?” he wants to know, a sinking sensation in his stomach when he doesn’t respond. “Harvey, please. I don’t understand. I want to help you. I want to be there for you. Just talk to me.”

“You wanna know the truth? Fine. The whole truth and nothing but, that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” The same echo of a laugh escapes him, chilling in the silence of the office, and Mike is hit with the intangible yet unshakable feeling that it’s the last thing he will hear before the pillars that hold up his world come crashing down.

Even so he isn’t prepared for what Harvey says next. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

“I’ll tell you the truth. Scottie isn’t dead, Mike. She’s gone, but she’s not dead. And now she’s about to ruin everything.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I don’t understand.”

His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, making as little sense as Harvey’s words. He just looks at him, and Mike knows he hasn’t misheard, but he still doesn’t _understand._

“I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to drag you into this.” Harvey sighs, running a hand over his face. “A while ago, I found out about something, and ever since that moment I’ve been waiting for everything to fall apart. And now it has.”

He nods towards the documents in front of him.

“Some overeager associate brought this to my attention last night.” His toneless voice makes Mike’s hair stand on end. It sounds like he’s given up, like he’s already defeated. “I don’t even know his name. He has no idea what it means, and this alone is not enough to prove anything. But if he found this, he can find more. Anyone can. And they will. They’ll find out what happened, and it will ruin us. It will ruin everything.”

Mike listens in silence. He struggles to process what he’s hearing, to feel anything, his entire system shutting down at the terrifying picture Harvey is painting. It’s too much on all fronts, nothing he can make sense of, and in the middle of this chaos he does the only thing he can think of. He focuses on Harvey.

He looks equally lost, despite having all the facts Mike is still missing to grasp the bigger picture, and that should fill him with terror, but for some reason it doesn’t. Instead, a strange sense of tranquility comes over him. Because Harvey clearly needs help. He needs someone to be there with him, to lean on, and he might have failed at everything else, but this Mike can do for him.

Straightening, he walks around the desk. He thinks about how hard it was to force himself to come here and how easy it is to move now, to bridge the final distance between them and just hold him.

Harvey doesn’t just allow him to pull him closer, he seeks the touch, following where he leads like a magnet.

“It’s alright,” Mike murmurs, and despite the fact that nothing is, it still doesn’t feel like a lie. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone in this. I’m here with you. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t know if it is what Harvey needs to hear, where the words are coming from, but he follows his instincts, stops thinking and just does what feels right.

Harvey lets out a deep breath, achingly close to a sigh. His arms tighten around him as he whispers into his shoulder, “Mike,” and then, with his chest heaving, “I love you.”

It’s quiet, but it’s crystal clear in the silence. A strange feeling wells up in Mike that he couldn’t name if he tried, something like relief, and affirmation, and above all a deeper and more intense kind of love than he has ever felt before.

“I love you too.”

The most obvious thing in the world. He pulls back, cupping his cheek. “Explain to me what happened,” he asks gently.

And Harvey does.

“I had no idea what was going on for the longest time,” he begins. “Scottie, she was… gambling with the firm, though she didn’t seem to think of it that way. I could give you a list of all the things she’s done – that I know of, that is – but let’s just say that none of them were legal.”

Mike’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What exactly are we talking about?” he asks when he finds his voice, the notion that Scottie wasn’t the perfect angel everyone made her out to be too outlandish, too wondrous to fathom.

“From overcharging clients to insider trade over instigation for all sorts of things, more or less anything you can imagine.”

So it really was as bad as it sounds.

He should feel worse about the rush of excitement it gives him than he does.

“I still don’t know why she did it,” Harvey continues. “Maybe she wanted the thrill that came with it. Or power. Or she was just in it for the money. Not that it matters. I only figured it out by accident last year, and it was sheer dumb luck that the firm hadn’t come crashing down before that. She’d gotten… reckless.”

“Right.” Mike nods slowly. “I still don’t see how that ties in with her- death, though. I mean, what happened during that trip?”

Harvey huffs. “The trip was a ruse. When I found out what she’d been up to, I was… livid, as you can imagine. She betrayed me. Betrayed my trust. She put us both at risk, and everyone who worked at Manderley, everyone we had a responsibility for. I wanted to turn her in.” He snorts. “Of course, she did not want me to do that.”

His lips curl up in a humorless smile. “Eventually we reached an… agreement. I told her I’d let her go, but in return she would have to disappear. For good.”

“So you… faked her death?”

He can’t believe he’s even posing the question. This is not something that happens in real life, and certainly not in _his_ life. This is something straight out of the movies.

And yet.

Harvey looks infinitely tired. It’s all Mike needs to know that he hit the nail on the head.

“It probably wasn’t the best decision. I still don’t know if it was the right thing to do. But I felt backed into a corner. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just knew that I wanted her gone.” He exhales deeply. “So I made her promise to disappear. Probably did her a favor, considering the alternative if all her crimes had come to light.”

“I’ll say,” Mike mutters.

Harvey shakes his head. “Let’s be real. Despite the fact that she wasn’t exactly happy about it, she clearly got the better end of the deal. She’d put enough money aside to live comfortably for the rest of her days. I was the one who got left behind with a firm to run on my own and god knows how many pieces of evidence that could show up and bite me in the ass at any moment.”

He rubs his eyes, his hand lingering over them briefly. His entire stance radiates resignation. This is nothing he can hide from.

“We booked a trip the next weekend. Told everyone how happy we were to finally get away and spend some time together. Staged the accident, which was not as easy as the movies make it look, and she was on her merry way. I told her that if I ever saw her again, I would turn her in, the consequences for myself be damned. It’s the last I heard of her. Not that it really helped,” he adds, eyes on the mess of documents before him.

And finally Mike understands.

That’s why he was always staying late at the office. That’s why Scottie’s things were off limits, why no one was allowed to enter her office. He was trying to look for evidence and destroy it before it could harm them.

No wonder he was so distracted, only ever half present, his mind always somewhere Mike couldn’t follow. It was for his own safety. He shut him out to protect him.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have trusted me. You didn’t have to do this alone.”

It’s not a reproach. It’s sympathy. Because he gets it now, he does. He just wishes Harvey had let him carry some of that weight for him.

He must have been suffering so much.

Harvey looks at him, and he can see the pain behind his eyes so clearly now that he doesn’t know how he ever could have been blind to it.

“How could I, when I knew that you were unhappy? Don’t try to deny it. You weren’t happy in this relationship, Mike. You talked more to Rachel or Donna than you did to me.”

“Because you weren’t there,” Mike insists. “I mean, you were there, of course, but I always felt like your heart was still somewhere else. Scottie was…she’s still everywhere, isn’t she? All the time. I couldn’t bear seeing again and again how much you still loved her. How you must have been comparing me to her and found me lacking in every aspect.”

“What are you talking about?” Harvey asks, staring at him with a frown before the realization sets in. “Oh, god. You thought that I was still in love with her?”

The genuine shock and repulsion in his voice is almost as good as the next words out of his mouth.

“God, Mike. Our marriage wasn’t a happy one. We were in love once, yes, but we got married way too soon. At some point it became more of a business arrangement than anything else. I remember people telling me I was the luckiest man in the world for having her as my wife.” He laughs hollowly. “I really wasn’t. I figured out how manipulative she was a long time ago, but I stuck with her for the sake of Manderley. I don’t love her, Mike, and I haven’t loved her in a very long time. I’m glad that she’s gone. I don’t want to look back on those years. I don’t miss her.”

He doesn’t miss her. He doesn’t love Scottie, not anymore. He loves Mike, only him, and all the time he has spent yearning to hear those words couldn’t have prepared him for the soaring ecstasy they give him now. He feels like he might actually fly, elevated and empowered and, most of all, validated.

He takes both of Harvey’s hands and squeezes them firmly, trusting that it will convey what he means to say. There’s time for that later, lots and lots of it, but for now there are more pressing matters.

“How exactly did you find out about her… activities?” he inquires.

Harvey returns the touch almost absently, lacing their fingers together as he explains, “She grew careless, that’s how. It was like when someone starts drinking, a few sips at first, then a glass here and there, and next thing you know the whole bottle is gone because the rush just feels too damn good. It was only then that I figured it out. She was good at covering her tracks, I’ll give her that. I haven’t found any digital proof, and trust me, I’ve been looking. But if I found something that first time, and now this guy did, and Huntley is on to something with his damn snooping too, it means that there _is_ proof out there. It means this isn’t over. She’s going to win after all.”

He sighs, the grip on Mike’s hands almost painful as he admits, “You were right. She’s still everywhere. Here, in our home, just- everywhere.”

_Our home_.

Mike bites his lip to conceal his smile, entirely inappropriate for the situation and yet impossible to fight.

“Hell, she even chose the goddamn wall colors. It might be under my name now, but this is still her firm, and god knows how much of it was built on her lies and deception. I should have realized that something was up when she insisted on getting into business with Edward Darby despite the reputation he holds,” he mutters darkly.

“Darby?”

“That sleazy son of a bitch has quite the list of crimes himself. Everyone knows, no one can prove it. I’m guessing that’s where she got it from.” His lips curl upwards in the bitter impression of a smile. “Learned from the best.”

“That’s why you were so mad when he showed up here,” Mike realizes.

Harvey nods grimly. He hesitates briefly before he admits, “There’s something else.”

He sighs, his next words clearly costing him a world of effort.

“She betrayed me in… more than one way. She told me right before she left, one last punch in the gut.” He exhales deeply. “She’d been having an affair, apparently. With Stephen Huntley.”

Mike’s mouth drops. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” He clenches his jaw. “The thing is, he never bought the story about her accident. Ever since she disappeared he’s been on my goddamn back, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Probably thinks I killed her or something.” He huffs. “I’m fairly certain he knows at least some of what she did, if he wasn’t involved himself. I don’t think he has any proof that could harm the firm, but that won’t stop him from digging. He wants to avenge her death. Isn’t that ironic? And something tells me he’s not above pinning her crimes on me and making me go down for them.”

“That… explains so much,” Mike mutters, shaking his head. “That’s why he wanted to hurt me. Both of us.” At the questioning look Harvey gives him he elaborates, “The gala. He was the one who gave me the design I was wearing. Told me you’d almost chosen it for one of your own outfits and you’d be happy to see it on me.”

“Of course. Son of a bitch,” Harvey mutters. He shakes his head, staring ahead.

“I should have known this would happen eventually. I should never have come back here and tried to fix it. Ultimately it didn’t change a damn thing, did it? Finding you, loving you, it makes no difference. She still wins. She’s free, and I’m the one who’s going down for the crimes she committed.”

His hand trembles in Mike’s, betraying the façade he’s still trying to keep up – not because he doesn’t want Mike to see him, but because that’s just who he is, he knows that now.

And Mike gets it. And he pulls Harvey closer and just holds on to him, because that’s who Mike is, and he can see now what he always felt to be true about them; they complement each other perfectly. And Harvey may be the head and Mike the heart, but that’s why Mike understands so well what’s going on with Harvey now, and why he knows just what he needs.

Harvey is drawing from his strength while he’s drawing from Harvey’s, and despite everything he’s smiling as he buries his face in his shoulder and clings to him, because this is right, this is how it always should have been.

He can see it all so clearly now. The sense of surrealism of hearing that Scottie never died still persists, but his mind is sharpened all the same, the path ahead clearer than ever.

It’s obvious what will happen now. He came here believing that it would be the end of them, but he was wrong. This is only the beginning. Scottie won’t haunt them anymore. Harvey doesn’t believe it, but Mike knows better. The veil has been lifted at last. They are free of her. _He_ is free. Free to touch Harvey, to love him and be loved in return, to take the place by his side he always wanted. She is gone now, truly gone, and nothing is standing between them any longer.

They just have to make sure she’s gone from every other part of their life too.

Because it really is their life now. They have finally become a _we_, united for the first time since they laid eyes on each other in Monte Carlo. Together, against the rest of the world if need be.

“I’m sorry,” Harvey mutters. “I never meant for it to come to this.”

“I’m not,” Mike disagrees, shaking his head. He pulls back just enough to see his face, cupping his cheek gently. “At least now I know.”

Harvey searches his face, his lips a thin line. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize… you’ve been in so much pain.”

“It’s okay,” Mike says, because it really is. It doesn’t matter anymore. “So have you.”

Harvey swallows.

“I love you,” he says, his voice thick. “I do. I wish I’d told you that sooner. I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this. But it’s too late now. The truth could come out at any moment. There’s nothing we can do.”

He shuts his eyes, everything about his posture screaming defeat. Mike has never seen him like this. He never wants to see him like this again.

And he knows what needs to happen to ensure that.

“There is one thing.”

Harvey opens his eyes to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Stay with me for a second.” Mike gets up, pacing the office as the plan takes shape in his mind. “There’s no digital evidence, correct?”

“None that I’ve been able to find so far.”

“Okay. Okay. And the physical evidence, the things that could get us into trouble – they’re all here, right? Inside Manderley?”

“There might be something in her stuff at home, but- yes, more or less. It’s like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Every case she ever touched, every file her name comes up in, all of it is a potential threat.”

“And finding everything is not possible.”

Harvey sighs. “I’ve been trying to, but it’s… too much. Far too much for an entire team that knows what it’s looking for, never mind one person searching for blind spots. Because she didn’t exactly leave a guide to every crime she committed. It’s just… trying to find anything that doesn’t quite add up, that should be there but isn’t, that someone made disappear.”

He shakes his head and sits back. “I’ve tried, Mike, but we need to face the facts. There’s no way out of this.”

“Yes, there is.”

Mike keeps pacing, barely taking in his surroundings as he thinks rapidly.

“You’re right about one thing, though. Scottie is still here, in these halls, and she always will be. She’s still haunting you, and you will never be free unless that goes away.”

He turns around and looks at Harvey, and maybe for the very first time sees him for what he really is; human, undisguised and unmasked. Vulnerable. An equal. There are no more barriers between them that he can’t get past. They’ve overcome the first obstacle. Now it’s time for the last one.

Trial by fire, Mike thinks, the irony not escaping him, and he squares his shoulders, looking Harvey directly in the eye, leaving no room for doubt that he knows what he’s saying.

“Burn it. It’s the only way we can start over.”

Harvey meets his statement with silence. He just looks at him, his eyes searching his face, the quiet stretching as he thinks.

“We?” he then asks. It’s not the part Mike expected him to focus on. “After everything that happened, all the shit I just told you, you still want to do this with me?”

This, Mike knows, is about a lot more than just arson. It’s about a life spent together, knowing that you have someone to lean on, someone to come home to no matter what. It’s about loyalty.

He can’t help the snort escaping him. That he even has to ask. “What did you think I was going to do, call the engagement off and leave you to deal with this on your own?”

Shaking his head, he steps in front of Harvey’s chair and sinks to his knees, holding his gaze. “I love you, Harvey. But even more than that, I am committed to you. To us. We’re going to get through this together, and I am not leaving you, no matter what happens. Not unless you want me to go.”

Harvey shakes his head mutely, grasping Mike’s hand. “I don’t.”

“Then I’m here.”

Harvey’s eyes fall shut when he pulls him down, giving him a gentle but firm kiss. They are still close when he pulls back, taking a deep breath before he opens his eyes again.

“You really mean it?”

Instinctively understanding that this is not about them anymore, Mike nods.

“It’s the only way.”

Harvey looks away, sucking in his lip.

“It will destroy lives. Can we do that? To save our own?”

“This is Manderley. It will rebuild itself with someone else at the top. It existed long before us, and it will keep existing long after us. Even with a setback like this. And even if it doesn’t, then people will spread out. Any law firm would be happy to take someone on who worked here.”

He lifts his shoulders. “If anything, we are setting them free. Manderley can recover from a tragedy. From those things coming to light? It couldn’t.”

Harvey nods slowly, but stays silent.

“I’m not saying it’s a good choice, or an ethical one,” Mike continues quietly. “But I think it’s what we need to do if we want to leave this behind and move forward. If we’re ever going to be free of the threat she poses, then we need to make sure that we’re rid of it for good.”

Harvey drops his hand and sighs. “You’re right.”

“This is the only way,” Mike reminds him gently. “And the odds are in our favor. There are no security cameras around, which is finally starting to make sense to me. There is no one here, no one who could link us to the fire. This can work, Harvey. It will.”

Harvey regards him quietly. “You were so innocent when I met you,” he says. “I think I’ve had a bad influence on you.”

“I think you’ve taught me that there is always a choice, and that nothing worth having comes without taking a risk sometimes,” Mike corrects. “Besides, it’s a calculated one. I’d rather end up being prosecuted for something I did than something I didn’t do.”

Harvey huffs. “You haven’t done anything, Mike. You shouldn’t be involved in this at all. I should protect you from it.”

“When are you going to get it through your head? We’re a team now. We’re in this together. Whatever happens next, I’m not letting you go through it alone.” He shakes his head. “And besides, no one is innocent. I was far from it when I met you. Naïve, yes, but not innocent. I think it’s the kind of sins you commit that tells you who you are, not that you commit them at all. I don’t know about you, but being someone who’s willing to make sacrifices for love doesn’t sound like the worst type of person to me. I’m okay with that. The question is, are you?”

Harvey takes a deep breath, looking at him like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

Finally he just says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Harvey nods. Mike inhales deeply as well. “Okay.”

They look at each other.

“How are we going to do this?”

Mike looks around, biting his lip. “We light a candle,” he decides. “And then we leave it right here.”

“You think that’s going to be enough?”

“If we help along with some alcohol, it will be. Look around. This place is old, and flammable. We probably won’t have to do more than light a spark, and Manderley will take care of the rest for us.”

Harvey doesn’t look convinced.

“I don’t have any gasoline on me,” Mike points out. “I could go out and get some, but I’d rather not leave a trail in case anyone starts snooping.”

“You’re right.” Harvey sighs. “We can try using the bottle of whiskey she kept over there.”

Mike nods. “That’ll do the trick.”

Harvey lets out a slow breath. “Should we get an actual candle or just… do it without one?”

“I have to grab a lighter anyway, so I guess we can use one. I’ll get it, just wait here.”

Mike turns around and heads for the kitchen. It’s surreal to be here at this hour, but even more to know that it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to. It doesn’t quite feel real yet.

But it’s about to be.

Harvey gets up when he returns. Mike puts the candle on the desk between them.

“In here?”

“Might as well. There’s no one here for miles. By the time someone sees the fire, it will long have spread to the file rooms.”

“Let’s do it here, then,” Harvey decides. “It’s only right.”

“Agreed.”

Rounding the table, Harvey goes to retrieve the bottle. It’s almost completely full, and Mike watches quietly as he unscrews the lid and pours it over the folders on the desk slowly. His hand is ever so slightly unsteady as he makes his way through the office. Neither of them comments on it.

When the last drop is spilled, Harvey sets the bottle down with a thud, his hand lingering on the neck before it falls away.

“That should do it.”

Neither of them says anything else, the weight of what they’re about to do catching up with them.

“What happens after this?”

“I don’t know,” Mike says quietly, his eyes on the candle. “I guess… we’ll be free. Free to do whatever we want. We can stay here. Or we can go back to the States and start over. Take Donna and Rachel with us if they’re up for it. Whatever we want to do, we can do it. There are no limits.”

Harvey listens quietly.

“Jessica would take us in,” he says. “We could work for her while we regroup. Figure out where we want to go from there.”

Mike looks up, meeting his eyes. The corner of his mouth lifts. “I like the sound of that. I didn’t get the chance to meet her properly last night. I’d like to redeem that.”

Harvey returns his smile, small as it may be. Then his eyes drop to the candle, and it vanishes from his face.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure.”

Inhaling deeply, he nods. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Mike takes a breath as well. They watch the flame appear in silence as he presses down on the lighter. The destructive power of such a fickle thing renders him still for the span of one painfully heavy heartbeat before he lowers it and lights the wick.

It ignites at once, and Mike moves the lighter to the documents on the desk without letting go.

There’s no jet of flame, no immediate conflagration. He’s seen this once in a video, satisfying a late-night curiosity a lifetime ago, but holding the lighter himself, seeing the flame transfer before his eyes is something else entirely.

The alcohol catches fire, helping the flame along. It spreads slowly, the paper soaked in it unaffected at first, then wilting, and finally blackening rapidly.

He looks up when Harvey reaches for the candle, joining him quietly. Even so it takes a while for the flames to sustain themselves. Or maybe it feels longer than it really is.

It doesn’t matter. He keeps feeding the fire, only stepping back when the smoke appears, taking in the destruction they created in silence, growing now without their permission. Eventually it will be out of their hands entirely.

Just as he wants it to be.

They stand there and watch the flames spread, slowly at first, then inexorably. He can feel the heat they radiate already, the sting of the smoke in his eyes, but he doesn’t close them, couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

There’s an illogical, deep tranquility to the dance they perform, intoxicating like only the dangerous and forbidden can be, compelling them to stay against all reason and watch a little longer, watch the fire burn away what they couldn’t get rid of themselves. It’s calming, and cleansing, leaving him with a sense of purity that he never quite experienced before.

This is _good_. It may not be right, but it’s what’s right for them. It was a necessity, and he doesn’t regret it even as the fire spreads and licks at the cornerstones of their life until it has no choice but to crumble.

He just feels peace.

They stay until it’s high time to get out of there. Harvey turns around first, and together they head out and down the stairs, not a word spoken between them.

They just walk, out the entrance, past the gate, down the path leading them away from the building to god knows what’s coming next. It doesn’t matter. They’ll figure it out together.

By unspoken agreement, they stop before the path makes a turn to look at Manderley rising into the sky one last time. It towers over them, so dignified and strong against the black of the night. Like nothing could ever touch it or break it down.

But they could. And they did.

The night was dark when Mike came here, the sky almost an inky black, the moon nowhere to be seen. It’s changing now as they stand and watch, the lights dancing behind the windows like a flicker of their imagination at first, then bigger and brighter, spreading until, eventually, the whole building will light up with it.

They don’t stick around to see it. They watch for a while, making sure the flames get stronger, that stopping them now is improbable and, finally, impossible. At some point Harvey’s hand finds its way into his, and they stand there and wait together, and when it’s time to go, they go without another look back.

They walk quietly, without hurry, their hands joint as the past burns down to ember behind them, turning to ashes and ruins until it finally is no more.

And once it’s gone, they will be reborn. He can feel it already, the change in the pattern of his beating heart, the metamorphosis of every one of his cells. He’s alive, so very, incredibly alive, and he doesn’t have to wonder if Harvey feels the same way, he just knows.

Despite the unspeakable thing they just did he walks lighter now, like the weight he’s been carrying around since before they met has finally lifted off his shoulders.

It’s liberation. It’s freedom for both of them, at long last, and he’s addicted to it from the very first taste. A laugh bubbles up in him, full of disbelief and gratitude and the sheer rush of existing, and Harvey looks at him from the side, and he doesn’t have to ask.

He just understands.

*

“We should consider our next steps,” Harvey says.

His hand in Mike’s is steady, and he squeezes it briefly in reassurance before he asks, “What are you thinking?”

“I want to give us a stronger alibi. I hate to drag someone else into this, but I can’t have the police asking too many questions. Not when you’re involved.”

Mike glances at him, nodding. “Donna?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Harvey looks at him. “You alright with that?”

He smiles. “I think it’s a good idea. Let’s do it.” Brushing the back of his hand with his thumb, he suggests, “Let’s walk a bit farther before we call a cab.”

“Sure.” Harvey looks up at the sky. “It’s a beautiful night. Perfect for a walk.”

“It really is,” Mike agrees.

And so they walk until they reach the junction by the big street and then a while longer before Harvey hails a cab, his hand already seeking Mike’s again as he tells the driver Donna’s address.

It’s a short ride compared to how long the rest of the night felt. It’s far too late for any kind of social call, but the lights are still on in Donna’s apartment, and Mike rings the bell without hesitation, trusting that they’ll be welcome.

He never realized it, too caught up in the twisted version of reality he was living in, but for the first time since his Grammy died he actually has a family again. It’s not just Harvey. Donna, and Rachel, they took him in without question, being there for him time and time again no matter what he needed. This is a little different than the usual fires he asks them to put out – mostly because there’s a literal one involved this time, and putting it out is the last thing he wants – but he has no doubt that Donna will let them in and help despite the questionable nature of their actions. Because they are family. And some bonds just aren’t so easily broken.

“There better be a crisis,” Donna greets them when she opens up. They exchange a glance, and she frowns, asking, “_Is_ there a crisis?”

Harvey looks at Mike, then turns to her as he says, “There’s been a fire.”

She blinks at him, then steps aside to let them in.

As soon as the door is closed, Harvey turns around and holds up a hand.

“Before we say any more, I need to set some ground rules. You’re going to have questions. We cannot give you the answers, at least not for a while. For your own safety. If you can’t accept that, Mike and I are leaving right now and, if asked by you or anyone else, were never here.”

Donna presses her lips together, crossing her arms. There seems to be an entire conversation in the look they exchange that Mike can only guess at. For the first time, the thought doesn’t frighten him.

Their relationship may never be like the one the two of them have, but that’s more than alright. It’s his hand Harvey is still holding, him he is leaning on now. There is no room for doubt that what they have is equally meaningful, if not more.

“Alright,” Donna agrees, exhaling slowly. “I won’t pretend to like it, but I trust you. And if you can’t tell me, I assume there’s a good reason for it.”

Harvey nods. “Thank you,” he says. Looking at Mike, he begins to explain, “The firm is burning to the ground as we speak. I expect to get a call about it sometime within the next few hours. It’ll be the first I hear about it.”

She regards him quietly. “Okay.”

“Now, it could… create the wrong impression if there were any doubts concerning our whereabouts when the fire started.”

“I see.” She lifts her shoulders. “Well, it’s a good thing you were here all night then.”

Mike exhales quietly. “Thank you, Donna. We wouldn’t have come here if it weren’t important.”

“I know.” The corner of her mouth lifts. “Now sit down, you two. You look like you could use a drink. I know I can.”

“As long as it’s not whiskey,” Harvey mutters. Mike catches his eyes, biting his lip to hide his smile.

Returning with an expensive bottle, Donna joins them on the sofa.

“What did we have?” Harvey asks as he accepts his glass, taking a sip before turning it over in his hands. “For dinner.”

“I’m thinking Italian,” Donna says, pouring Mike a drink too, then herself. “Pasta with a salmon and lemon sauce. Salad on the side. Tomatoes and croutons, no cucumber. You really enjoyed the lemon vinaigrette. It’s my mom’s recipe. I was very proud of getting it right.”

“Sounds good. What was for dessert?”

“Just some ice cream. You specifically told me not to get anything else after all the treats we had at the gala.”

“Of course. Vanilla?”

“And chocolate. Mike’s wish.”

“Right. Where did we get the food?”

“I cooked it myself.”

“And it was delicious,” Mike agrees. They exchange a glance, and he raises his glass. “To a lovely dinner.”

“To a lovely dinner,” Harvey and Donna echo, raising theirs as well.

They each take a sip, savoring the sharp taste of the alcohol, and then lean back and settle in for the night.

He has a feeling that it’s going to be a long one. But it’s easier to wait with company.

Harvey’s phone rings sooner than Mike expected. He’s shocked, concerned, promises to be on his way right this second. Mike would have believed him, if he hadn’t known better.

The three of them head over to the firm together, and from the moment they step out of the car everything turns to chaos. For the next couple of hours their lives belong to the police. Everything is a haze of question after question, of pretending to be devastated, pretending not to know any of the answers, and the lack of sleep doesn’t make it any easier to keep up with.

They get through it somehow.

Harvey looks appropriately distraught, and Mike makes sure he displays the same sentiment to whoever cares to look.

They are asked to give their statements, but the officer is sympathetic to their tragedy and doesn’t pose too many questions. Their stories are short and compliant, not detailed enough to be suspicious, just enough to disperse any doubt about their authenticity.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure out what happened here,” he assures them by the end of it, and Harvey offers him a grateful smile and thanks him, and Mike holds his hand tightly and doesn’t let go.

Despite the promise, the police don’t seem to have any leads. Certainly nothing leading back to them, or Mike is pretty sure they would have been taken in by now. It’s too early to be certain, but he allows the hope budding in his chest to persist.

Harvey steps away at one point to start calling the partners, and Mike wraps his jacket tighter around himself, staring at the ruins of the walls he once thought to be invincible.

He broke them down.

They might not be out of the storm yet, but they’ll get there. He knows now that there is nothing they can’t do.

Hours later, after proving that they meant it when they said they’d assist the police with the investigation in any way they could, a few distraught calls as the news traveled, and a ride home in the car of the sympathetic officer, they finally make it home.

The quiet awaiting them demands to be taken in thoroughly, and Mike stops in the hall, listening closely. Nothing about their apartment has changed, but it feels so different to be here now. Everything else has changed.

They have, too. Irrevocably.

Harvey sets his keys down, the sound loud and pronounced in the silence. Right here, right now, they can slow down for the first time since he found him in that office last night, but Mike’s body hasn’t gotten the memo yet. He is still high on adrenaline, ready to fight or flight in an instant, the rush of the past 24 hours continuing to flood his system despite the absence of an actual threat.

And with nothing else diverting his attention, his focus now shifts to Harvey.

Harvey, who is already looking at him with a burning behind his eyes that sends shivers down Mike’s spine.

“I think…” His words are low, thoughtful. “I think we might have pulled it off.”

“We have,” Mike agrees, and the breathless quality of his voice makes them both halt for a painfully charged beat. He turns to him fully, the range of his perception narrowing down to him, the set of his shoulders, the curve of his lips, the scent of him that is equally comforting and arousing.

He doesn’t bother hiding what he’s thinking, and Harvey’s throat bobs like he can read his mind.

“Mike,” he says, his voice rough.

He just looks at him. It’s all the invitation Harvey needs.

He wastes no time walking up to him until they are chest to chest, his hands cupping Mike’s face and pulling him closer in a single movement. An urgent sound escapes him when he crashes their lips together, his back knocking against the wall with the impact.

His arms come up to wrap around Harvey’s waist as he returns the kiss desperately. It’s all affirmation and reassurance at first, and then Mike’s lips part and Harvey sighs into his mouth as they melt together, and the air changes instantly.

The blind desire hits him out of nowhere, impossible to fight and even harder to satisfy, but by god, he is going to go down trying.

Harvey moans when he bites his lip, pushing back like he’s a dying man and the only thing that can save him is the touch of Mike’s lips on his.

Mike doesn’t mean to hurt him, not at all, but it’s vital, it’s _necessary_ to know that he’s right here with him, to make sure that he feels it too, how goddamn alive they are. Their place in the cosmos needs to be affirmed and celebrated, tiny and insignificant and yet inalienably _theirs_; fought for, defended, earned.

Who could blame him for the force behind his kisses after what they went through, the animalistic need to get closer, to touch in whatever way possible just to be able to connect? Who could blame Harvey for doing the same?

His jacket comes off within seconds, as does his tie, though it’s not nearly fast enough for Mike. He growls at the feeling of the silk fabric as he tears at it – the softness is wrong; the only kind he wants, that can satisfy him, being the heat of Harvey’s bare skin on his.

Harvey isn’t any less urgent as he undresses to his best ability without separating from him, the impatient sounds he lets out only seeming to spur him on.

Good. This is taking too long.

To speed things up Mike clutches at Harvey’s shirt, not giving a damn about the buttons as he practically rips it open, and it says a lot about Harvey’s state that he doesn’t even comment on it.

“You,” is all he gets out, and it’s not the clearest instruction Mike has ever received, but he knows exactly what he’s asking of him.

He pulls his own shirt over his head, reluctantly parting from him to toss it across the room. Harvey uses the time to mouth at his neck, his hands traveling to the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike breathes out when he cups him, massaging through the fabric with one hand while the other works his belt open.

“Off. Get it off,” Harvey demands.

Mike bucks his hips, nodding fervently, and he presses up against him, his lips seeking Mike’s again, kissing him as he unzips his pants.

It’s all a mess of limbs and clothes, neither of them in the right space of mind to help things along by parting even for a little while, every inch between their bodies feeling like too much.

It’s a relief to finally feel Harvey’s skin on him, but it’s not enough. Pulling back, Mike blinks at him, his eyes clouded with need as he pants, “Bedroom. Now.”

Harvey attacks him with another kiss, walking them backwards without another word. They reach the bedroom soon, leaving behind a trail of shoes and clothing scattered all around the hall, but they never actually make it to the bed. As soon as they are both naked, Mike pushes Harvey against the wall and drops to his knees, his fingers digging into his hips as he wraps his lips around his cock.

“Fuck,” Harvey groans as he takes him in as far as he can, inhaling deeply to steady himself before pulling back slightly, falling into a slick, abrupt rhythm. Harvey doesn’t seem to mind the lack of finesse. He moans shamelessly, his head dropping back as he closes his eyes, opening them again almost immediately to watch.

Mike looks up through his lashes, holding his gaze. Harvey’s lips part. He runs his fingers through Mike’s hair, holding the back of his skull almost reverently as he strains to take him in farther. His eyes water, but he keeps trying, the same primal need that had them share the biting kisses earlier keeping him going.

Harvey chokes out a curse, only letting him swallow him down a few more times before he tugs at his shoulder, his eyes hazy with desire.

“Come here. Come here.”

Mike understands; it will be over too soon if he continues, and as long as he gets to keep touching him he doesn’t really care about the specifics. He lets Harvey pull him back to his feet and against his mouth, one hand on his ass, one reaching for his neglected cock.

He moans, and Harvey laps the sound up, groaning when he tastes himself on his lips. Mike only lets him lick inside his mouth briefly, the hand around his cock leaving him painfully aroused. He needs more, now. He needs all of him, as much as he can have.

“Fuck me,” he whispers against his lips, knowing exactly how needy he sounds and not giving a damn. “I want you in me. Now. Fuck me.”

“God, yes,” Harvey agrees immediately. The kiss they share is bruising, the slide of their lips wet and uncoordinated as he tries to reach the nightstand. It’s filthy hot, another way of marking and being marked, making it all the harder to part when it becomes apparent that he can’t reach the lube like this.

Mike barely lets him pull away to retrieve the bottle before he’s all over him again, the seconds apart feeling like an eternity. Holding the lube, Harvey pushes him back against the wall, his lips never leaving his as he coats his hand and reaches behind him.

Mike sucks in a sharp breath when he nudges his entrance, his finger breaching him without much preamble. He sighs, caught between pushing forward to get some friction for his aching cock and pushing back. Harvey takes care of the decision for him, pulling him closer against his chest as he opens him up.

The blind fumbling offers a sweet taste of what he craves so badly, but it’s not enough, not when Harvey’s cock is still pressing into his hip, hot and leaking and ready to go at any moment. To speed up the process, Mike holds on to Harvey and pushes himself up to wrap his legs around his waist, trusting that he will support him.

Harvey’s hand moves to his thigh at once, gripping him tightly as he takes a step forward, effectively wedging him between his body and the wall. Mike hums encouragingly when he uses the new position to add a second finger, opening him and slicking him up to his best ability.

“Enough, that’s enough,” he mutters against his lips, his breath hitching when he twists his finger just right. “Do it. Now.”

“You sure?” Harvey asks, but his hand is already around his cock, spreading the lube.

“Yeah. I’m ready,” Mike agrees breathlessly.

Harvey tosses the bottle aside, tightening his grip on him.

“Tell me,” he says, catching his eyes, and Mike nods, inhaling sharply when Harvey aligns his cock with his entrance and starts pushing in.

It hurts, but in the best possible way. The burn is _good_. Mike needs it, craves the sharp sting as Harvey enters him. It’s not unbearable, it’s immediate and raw and as vital to him as the air in his lungs.

“More. Oh, sh- more, yeah, come on,” he pants, closing his eyes when Harvey pushes until he’s all the way in.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, panting against Mike’s parted mouth as they both take a moment to feel the connection.

Mike could weep with how good it is. He can feel Harvey everywhere, around him and inside him, nothing registering but the heat of his body, the scent surrounding him, the sound of his irregular breathing. It’s so much, barely enough and yet more than he knows how to process. He cannot rationalize it, only feel it with every part of him.

It’s relief of one desire and ignition of another, needs being met and multiplied in an instance, and a gasp escapes him when Harvey retreats slightly to start thrusting his hips.

It hurts, and it turns him on beyond words, and the pain mingles with the pleasure so beautifully that he can hardly breathe.

“Fuck. Harder,” he gasps, his fingers digging into his skin. Harvey complies, picking up a rhythm of quick, sharp snaps of his hips, and Mike braces himself against the wall and his shoulders, his moans accompanying the sounds of their bodies moving together beautifully.

Harvey seems to think so too. He groans, catching his lips in a rough kiss as he wraps his hand around his cock.

“Like that, yeah,” Mike pants, nodding encouragingly. “Like- oh, god. Don’t stop.”

Thankfully, that seems to be the last thing on Harvey’s mind.

It’s _exquisite_. Mike’s back hits the wall with every thrust, and the hand holding him in place might just leave bruises, as his own grip on Harvey’s body undoubtedly will, but the slightly off angle, the strain of his muscles, the limited range of motion, all of it fades to the background compared to the feeling of being joint with Harvey, of consolidating physically what they experienced emotionally, and it’s not just different from the sex they’ve had before, it’s also _more_.

It makes his hair stand on end, the shocks of pleasure crashing over him again and again until his entire body is ablaze with it and all he can do is hold on, trying to meet Harvey for every thrust, to get as close as humanely possible and then even closer.

It can’t be anything but short and sweet, not with the immediacy of their desire, the need to come together right here, right now. Mike loses himself in the rhythm first, each of Harvey’s thrusts pushing him closer towards that sweet place where he can’t fight it any longer.

The pressure builds in his stomach until it finally spreads into every part of him, and Harvey fucks him through his release, the snaps of his hips continuing until he pushes into him one last time and stills, panting into his mouth as he comes too.

The room grows quiet after that. They stay as they are for a while, something between seconds and hours, but Mike couldn’t say if he wanted to. Time is meaningless as their heart rates calm down and their breathing returns to normal, as the aftershocks of their pleasure subside and the cotton-like haze of satisfaction and togetherness that remains engulfs them.

His knees feel weak when Harvey eventually lets him down, but he never has to ask for support. They’re not going far anyway. There’ll be time for that later, for cleaning up and much needed showers and letting go of one another, but not now, not yet.

Harvey just pulls him to the bed, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand, and they tumble between the sheets together, limbs entangled and exhausted in the best possible way.

They breathe quietly as the regard each other, anything they might have said out loud already in the looks between them. Giving in to his desire to reach out, Mike brushes Harvey’s cheek with his knuckles, feeling the heat of the flush he put there, that he alone is responsible for. He feels drunk on the idea, his heart so full that he thinks it might burst with all the emotions he’s been feeling since the gala, a distant memory now after everything that’s transpired since then.

Harvey takes his hand, brushing it with his lips before he leans in and kisses him almost reverently.

It’s love, above all. Knowing that they did the right thing, that whatever happens next will be better than what was before, that they are together, now and always, and there is nothing in this world that can tear them apart, not after this. Not anymore.

And Mike smiles, because for the first time he doesn’t have to doubt his place in Harvey’s life any longer. For the first time he understands, mentally and emotionally, that he belongs there. That Harvey wants him there, that he is worthy.

It’s all he ever wanted. And no one can ever take that away from him now.

*

The police calls by the end of the week to let them know that they’re dropping the investigation.

The insurance company is reluctant to pay with the gaps in the case no one seems to be able to fill in, but they don’t have a real leg to stand on, and Harvey makes sure to remind them of it.

Not everyone is happy about the news.

Mike is in the bathroom when the doorbell rings that night, but he can tell by the muffled sound of Harvey’s voice that he’s not excited about the visit.

When he goes to check and finds Huntley arguing with him, he understands why.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, stepping next to Harvey.

“Oh, of course. He’s in on it, isn’t he? He’s going to pretend that he’s innocent too then, yes?” Huntley sneers. “Quite the obedient little boy toy you’ve found yourself there.”

“The obedient little boy toy can speak for himself, thank you very much,” Mike says coldly.

It’s the only sign of his anger he lets show. Whatever ridiculous agenda he’s following, whatever he was trying to achieve by pitting Harvey against him, it seems vanishingly small now compared to the bond they have forged instead. He tried to tear them apart and all he managed was to bring them closer together. They have each other, and all he has is this resentment inside him that he’s running on. It’s going to burn him up one day.

In another life, Mike could almost pity him.

“Is there something you wanted, other than to come here and throw around baseless accusations?”

Huntley laughs bitterly.

“I’m not talking to _you_,” he spits out, turning back to Harvey. “Listen. I don’t know how you pulled this off, if you paid someone or if you did it yourself, but you’re not fooling me. I know you’re behind this.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you can’t prove anything,” Mike says, tilting his head. “Of course not, since we haven’t done anything. You know, this habit of yours, projecting your own character onto others, it’s quite unbecoming. Just because you’re a little too familiar with the criminal way of life doesn’t mean that the rest of us would resort to something like that.”

“Quite right.” Harvey shakes his head. “Look at yourself, Huntley. What did you expect to happen when you came here? Us admitting to a crime we did not commit? Your grief made you delusional. Scottie never would have started anything with you if she had seen you like this, I can tell you that much.”

Huntley’s face turns an ugly shade of red.

“How dare you,” he gets out, taking a step towards him. “How dare you even say her name, you bloody son of a-“

“Alright, this conversation is over,” Mike cuts in, moving too. He’s not quite between him and Harvey, but it gets the message across. It’s not that Harvey needs to be defended, but Mike wants to make it clear that there is no way around him if Huntley wants to try anything. “I suggest you take that misdirected anger somewhere else and leave us alone before we call the police. And don’t think we won’t, because _we_ have nothing to hide. Can you say the same thing about yourself?”

Huntley looks seconds away from blowing up. It doesn’t scare Mike as much as it would have just a few days ago. In fact, it doesn’t scare him at all.

The smile pulling at his lips at the thought only riles Huntley up further.

“This is not over,” he hisses.

“Oh, I believe it is,” Harvey says dryly and promptly shuts the door in his face.

Mike lets out a deep breath when the sound of his footsteps finally disappears.

“He can’t prove anything.”

“Of course not. He wouldn’t have come here if he could.”

“Exactly. The case is closed. We made it through.”

“It’s over,” Harvey agrees. “Finally.”

Mike smiles, and he pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

“Thank you,” he breathes out. “For everything. I never said it.”

He doesn’t have to for Mike to know, but they’ve learned their lesson about not saying the things that matter, and so he pulls back and, brushing his cheek with his thumb, tells him, “You are very, very welcome.”

Harvey regards him quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I thought I was doomed to be unhappy before we met. That Scottie would ruin me eventually and that would be the end of it. You… were entirely unexpected.”

Mike chuckles softly. “The best things always are, aren’t they?”

Harvey was, too. And so was their life together, and so is the journey they are about to embark on now.

They wait only a week before they start packing, making all necessary arrangements to move back to the States. Everyone understands, of course. There has been too much tragedy in Harvey’s life, in Mike’s now too, for them to stay. The loss of Scottie, of the firm, the emotional strain of the investigation on top of it – no one blames them for wanting to start over new.

Their bags are packed in no time. Harvey leaves most of what’s in the apartment behind, claiming that it was never his anyway, and even if it was, it’s unnecessary baggage – in every sense of the word.

Mike doesn’t mind starting over together. They’ll find a place that suits them, that is only theirs, with no traces of Scottie anywhere. He doesn’t know what it will look like yet, where their new home is going to be – New York is a big city, after all, but none of that matters. In any case, it’s going to be so much better than what they’re leaving behind.

It doesn’t register until they are through security at the airport, past the gate and in their seats with the rooftops of London shrinking beneath them, that they really did it. They’re leaving the city behind, and with it everything that’s been weighing them down since before they even got there. Mike may never come here again, and for all the good memories he made with Harvey, he can’t say that he regrets it.

It’s time to move on. Time to make some new memories.

He takes his eyes off the vanishing city lights, turning to Harvey in the seat next to his.

“Hey,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We made it.”

Harvey nods, and for the first time since they met his shoulders don’t seem to be weighed down by an invisible weight.

“We did.”

Mike smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harvey takes his hand, kissing his knuckles. “You ready to do this?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Good. Me too.”

Mike’s smile grows. He doesn’t let go of him as he looks back out of the window, watching the plane carry them away from the city until it’s entirely out of sight.

He’s more than just ready for this. He can’t wait for it, no matter what comes now, where they’ll end up staying and how their new jobs are going to turn out. They may be walking into the unknown, but they are doing it with their hands firmly entwined. It’s all that matters.

And that’s how they start over.

To say that it’s easy would be a crass overstatement.

The pain and trauma both of them had to go through don’t disappear just because they move to the other side of the ocean.

Mike can still smell the smoke in his clothes. He can still remember the heat of the flames and the look of despair on Harvey’s face, still feels the oppressive presence of Scottie’s memory when he closes his eyes. He knows his role in Harvey’s life now, but he remembers all too well when he didn’t, so well that sometimes, on a bad day, the feeling comes creeping back in if he doesn’t pay attention.

Harvey is usually there to snap him out of it, but he has his own demons to fight. He doesn’t sleep well, doesn’t quite seem to know how to slow down and stop throwing himself into his work, running from something that is long gone and yet as haunting as it ever was.

There are days when Harvey barely says a word, and he doesn’t even realize it until Mike gently coaxes something out of him, reminding him that he doesn’t have to keep what’s bothering him inside any longer.

It’s not easy in any sense of the word. But it’s easier to work through now.

Because they are in it together. And no matter how lost one of them gets in the past, the other is there to pull him back out.

And yes, they’re still hurting. Mike still dreams about what happened. Just last night, he dreamed he went to Manderley again. It seemed so real to him, the walls towering over him as still and imperative as ever, the scent of the flowers in the gardens traveling to him on the light breeze, the bustle of life inside that he used to be part of, never quite finding his place no matter how hard he tried.

But this is what’s real now.

Their new apartment is much smaller, in a quiet part of Manhattan. There are no extravagant decorations, no paintings that cost more than Mike’s annual salary. One bedroom, one living room, and a study that’s a little cramped, but big enough to accommodate a desk and the books they brought with them. It’s a definite downgrade from what they had before, but Mike feels more at home when he comes back every night than he ever did in London.

Both of them work at Pearson Hardman now, Harvey as a junior partner for the time being, Mike as a paralegal while he tries to find a school. Jessica told him that she’d consider employing him after he graduates even if it’s not from Harvard, but only if she sees that he’s working for it, that it really matters to him. He’s going to have to earn it.

All things considered they have a lot less now than they used to, and yet, immeasurably more.

Because Harvey smiles now, frequently. And Mike looks at him and doesn’t wonder what Harvey sees in him anymore, because he knows. Because he tells him. And they talk, really talk now, and lean on each other when they need to, and Mike never goes to bed feeling like a stranger in his own home anymore.

It’s a good life. It’s smaller, and happier, and so much more fulfilled than the one they had before.

“You’re very different from when I first met you,” Harvey tells him one night, regarding him thoughtfully. Mike turns around from the shelves and looks at him, lifting an eyebrow.

“Is that a bad thing?” he teases, smiling when Harvey shakes his head. He crosses the room to sink down on the armrest, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I was still very much in the process of growing up when you first met me. Without quite realizing it. It took me a while, but I got there eventually, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Harvey agrees, winding his arms around his waist as he pulls him closer. He regards him with unabashed pride. “Look at you, all grown up. And what a man you’ve turned into. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.”

Mike laughs quietly, playing with the golden band on his finger. The sight still makes him stop and stare in wonder sometimes. Part of him hopes that he never gets used to it. “Well, neither could I. And for the record, so are you. Very different from when we first met,” he elaborates when he lifts his eyebrows. “And that’s a good thing too.”

Harvey hums. “Maybe we’re just better together.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second.”

They look at each other, and the sight of his soft smile makes Mike’s heart contract in the best possible way. When he looks at him like this it reminds him of how far they’ve come, how very different things used to be between them.

Yes, they can’t ever go back to Manderley, to what they were before, but why the hell would they want to? Everything Mike could ever have asked for is right here before him, holding him closer, smiling at him like he hung the moon. Last night he dreamed he went to Manderley again, but this morning he woke up in New York with Harvey’s arms around him and his breath tickling his ear as he greeted him good morning, and there is nowhere in the world he would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! This fic was so emotional for me for so many reasons (mainly the circumstances I wrote/edited/posted it in), so seeing it end now is... weird. I really hope you guys enjoyed the journey even though it was something a little different this time! Thank you all for your support and for reading along. It's been so much fun! x

**Author's Note:**

> Yall know what's up... English isn't my native language, so feel free to tell me if you find any mistakes! And if you want to let me know what you think of the story or just tell me something, leave a comment and make a gal happy <3


End file.
